Thirty Pieces of Silver
by CautiousCookie
Summary: Growing up under the watchful eye of Father Anderson wasn't always easy. After learning to tamp down her childhood interest in the supernatural, Maria matured into a proper, young, Catholic woman with enough of her guardian's confidence to do some volunteer work in England. But what will happen when she encounters a dark, handsome stranger on a lonely walk home one night?
1. A Dark and Stormy Night

**Hello all, and welcome to my first Hellsing fanfic. I'd just like to start by saying that I don't own Hellsing; I only own the OC's ;) Also, as this is my first story for this fandom, I may or may not get things like characterization right immediately, so if you lovely readers have any comments, questions, critiques, suggestions, or complaints, please tell me. I am completely open to constructive criticism. Anyway, let us begin...**

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 _Rome, 1985_

The storm had cut the power in the orphanage. The children's bedtime routine had to be performed via candlelight, much to the nuns' annoyance: Monitoring a group of children changing, brushing their teeth, and washing their faces in the dark was harder than it seemed. Nevertheless, the orphans were eventually herded into bed, and when the nuns had bade them goodnight, the firelight provided the perfect ambiance for a scary story.

The children sat huddled together, some sitting two or three in a bed, watching the show play out before them: Circling dangerously about their room was a vampire. She looked about ten, but she was actually one hundred and fifty-four and a half exactly. She was dressed in second-hand pyjamas, but the long sheet tied around her neck served perfectly as a cape. She resembled a normal child, but when she screwed up her freckled face and barred her teeth, she looked like a true monster.

"I ahm thee master of thee night," she drawled in a cartoon-ish Romanian accent. "I am thee undead, and I'f come to suck your blood!"

"You don't scare us!" a six year old boy shouted from his bed, though his nervous grin told the vampire otherwise. She skipped over to the boy's bed, her cape fluttering with each movement, and she leaned over the brass footboard. He giggled and raised his blanket up to his nose.

"Ees that so, Giovanni?" she growled, though a smile was beginning to break the surface of her face. "I would not say such things eef I were you- I am fery powerful…"

"Not here, you're not!" a nine year old girl chirped from across the room. She pointed to the eastern wall, where a simple wooden crucifix hung. "Vampires can't do anything when there are crosses around!"

Slowly, the vampire turned away from Giovanni and sauntered over to the little girl. The other children snickered and hushed each other with each heavy step the monster took.

"You ah mistaken, Lucia," she said. "That cross ees wooden- Only silver can stop me."

Lucia shook her head and inched away from the approaching creature. "It's not true!"

"Ah, but eet ees!" the vampire insisted. She bent her knees and raised her hands above her head. "Now then… _I ahm thirsty!_ "

And the vampire jumped onto Lucia before anyone could move. In a flurry of blankets, pillows, and flickering firelight, the children screamed and laughed. Lucia was the loudest- The vampire had opted to tickle her instead of biting her. The bystanders wasted no time in jumping onto the fiend and attempting to pry her off of Lucia, only to become victims of merciless tickling themselves.

The confusion and hilarity was so great in the bedroom, that the children almost did not hear the door burst open. However, the lantern shining harsh, white light into the room caught their attention immediately.

"What is this?" a heavily accented voice demanded. "What is going on here?"

The screams of mirth turned into screams of fright as the boys and girls rushed to their respective beds. They dove under their covers and hid their heads under pillows, as if to pretend they had been ignoring the bedlam all along. Some brave souls kept their heads up, though, and watched as a tall, blonde, bespectacled priest strode into the room and made straight for Lucia's bed. The light from his lantern illuminated the figure of a cowering, disheveled little girl in hand-me-down pyjamas and a sheet tied around her neck. She gazed up into the priest's face with a sort of hopeless guilt, as if she knew it was useless trying to deny her part in this.

"Maria," the clergyman said sternly. "What have you been up to?"

The girl swallowed and murmured, "I was… just telling a story, Father Anderson."

"D'you know what time it is, child?"

"N-No, Father."

"Maria doesn't need sleep! Vampires don't sleep at night!" Giovanni piped up from under his pillow, unaware that the time for joking was over.

Father Alexander Anderson inclined his head and eyed the girl seriously. "Is that so?" he muttered. "In that case, come with me, little draculina. You're not too fearsome for a talking-to yet."

Sighing, Maria untied the sheet and let it slip down to the floor. She got off Lucia's bed and followed Anderson out of the dormitory, refusing to meet her friends' eyes. The children had fallen deathly silent and many looked away from her.

The priest led her down the dark, empty corridor, where the echo of their footsteps sounded louder than the thunder outside. Maria tried to swallow down her fear, but to no avail. It was dark, stormy, and she was alone with her guardian, who looked less than pleased with her. When Anderson stopped by the large, bay window and set his lantern down, the girl braced herself.

"Don't look so frightened," Anderson said, frowning down at her. "I'm not going to cane you."

At this, Maria relaxed some. "I'm sorry for causing a commotion, Father."

He shook his head and glanced out the window. "I know you are, but that's not why I wanted to speak to you."

Anderson knelt down and looked at Maria straight in the eyes. His expression frightened her: She had never seen him look so serious before, and the harsh light of the lantern reflecting off his glasses made him look even more ominous.

"You mustn't go running round telling horror stories like you do," Anderson told her. "In fact, you shouldn't even be pretending to be something as monstrous as a vampire. They're hellish creatures that have abandoned God, and He in turn has abandoned them."

Maria frowned. "But, Father, it's just for fun. I'm not _really_ a vampire."

"It doesn't matter, Maria," her guardian insisted through clenched teeth. "Scripture is very clear on what differentiates holy and unholy beings: " _Be sure you do not eat the blood, because the blood is the life, and you must not eat the life with the meat"._ Vampires disobey this command, it won't do for a good Catholic to be imitating such a monster. Do you understand?"

The thunder rolled outside, and Maria shuddered. She glanced out the window and saw the storm clouds rolling over the green hillsides and down towards Vatican City. For a fearful moment, she thought it was a manifestation of God's anger.

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "Have I sinned greatly?"

Anderson cupped her chin and turned her head away from the window. When Maria saw that he was smiling, she immediately felt better, as if she had just gotten off a merry-go-round before she could get sick.

"Yes, but you didnae know any better," he said gently. The clergyman straightened and ruffled her hair. "Now, go back to bed, and don't be riling up any of the wee ones. Ask the Lord for His forgiveness, and go to sleep."

Maria smiled up at her guardian, though deep down, she was disappointed with herself. She did not want to admit to Father Anderson that stories of vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and zombies thrilled her. She was frightened that if he knew how tales of horror enthralled her, he would get angrier with her. Worse yet, she feared God was already displeased with her fascination with the dark and macabre. Would either the Lord or Anderson understand?

The little girl did not voice these concerns, though. She merely said, "Yes, Father" and turned around on her toes. Anderson walked her back to the dormitory, holding the lantern above their heads. When Maria reached the door, she did not open it immediately. She froze at the passageway, her hand resting on doorknob and her head bowed.

"What is it, Maria?" Anderson prompted, worried this was going to turn into an all-night lecture.

"Father…" She glanced up at him over her shoulder, her green eyes twice as big as they usually were. "Do vampires really exist?"

He blinked, taken aback by the question. The girl certainly harboured an interest in demonic creatures, but he had not expected her to ask him this outright. Hoping this was nothing more than a childish thought, he offered her a gentle smile.

"I'm not sure. Depends on who you'd ask," he answered lightly before opening the door for her. Shooing her inside, he said, "To bed with you now. Goodnight and God bless."

With that, Anderson shut the door, leaving Maria to hide under her covers and pray in the all-consuming darkness.

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 **Thanks for reading! More on the way...**


	2. A Midnight Prince

**Wow, reviews already, and we're only past the prologue! Thank you very much, compa16 and Mira Luvs U, for the feedback! So, I figured it was unfair to make people wait for the first real chapter, so here's a speedy update for y'all. I can't promise my updates will be quick or regular, since I'm working with a beta and she is a busy lady, but I CAN promise you that the updates will come one way or another.**

 **On another note, I'd just like to point something out: In this chapter, you may notice that Maria alternates between speaking in perfect and less-than-stellar sentences. This is because she isn't a native English-speaker and probably doesn't have the language down perfectly yet. As for when she is speaking perfectly, this only happens when she is talking to Anderson. I assumed that because Anderson runs an orphanage in Rome, he would know Italian (despite having a Scottish accent). So, when she's speaking to him, I supposed they were speaking her native tongue, Italian. Does that make sense? Okay, good!**

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 _London, 1999_

"Ugh, how awful," Irene said from her place on the couch. "There's never anything cheery on the news anymore."

It was nearly ten o' clock at night, and Maria was in the sitting room with her two flatmates, watching television. The news anchor was covering a story on a brutal murder that had occurred in a home just outside of Wimbledon Village. Huddled in the overstuffed armchair with her knees to her chest, Maria watched with a fascinated sort of horror as footage from the crime scene rolled onscreen. She was shocked to see a shot of the bloodied, vandalised wall, though: The murderers had painted an inverted cross on the floral wallpaper with their victim's blood.

"Lord have mercy," Katie breathed. "What a terrible thing to do!"

"May God strike them down," Irene muttered, glaring at the television. Maria shuddered and looked down at her feet.

It had been a long day: The three young women had risen at dawn and did their volunteer work at the orphanage for nearly ten hours. Saint Nicholas' Institute was a new mission that required a lot of work for little material gain, but Maria had thrown herself into her tasks, cooking meals, cleaning rooms, and supervising the children. But now, she was exhausted, and she was too tired to feel outraged, even in the face of such blasphemy.

"Where are you going?" Irene asked, watching her Maria stand.

"To the kitchen," Maria answered, her Italian accent lacing her words. "I am expect a call. Would you like me to bring you something?"

"No, thank you," Katie answered, her eyes glued to the screen. "Tell the good father we say hello."

Maria smiled and sauntered into the kitchen, flicking on the light as she went. For a rental property, this kitchen had more than enough amenities for three girls. The large fridge was always stocked with food, waiting to be prepared on the ceramic cooktop. A row of granite countertops glinted in the lamplight, and the young woman was thankful to see the sink void of dishes. On the off-white wall, near the oversized dining table, a phone began to ring. Maria dashed over and lifted it off its hook.

"Good evening, Father Anderson," she sang into the receiver.

"And hello to you to, Maria," the familiar voice on the opposite line replied. Maria smiled and leaned against the table.

"How are you?"

"Same as I ever was- Perfectly fine," Father Anderson answered. "And you, child? How is work at the orphanage?"

Maria related the day's events to him, making sure to include the part where she sat with the children for mass.

"Good, good," the priest said. "So it _is_ an honest, Catholic institution. I suppose I should have trusted you in the first place, when you first brought the opportunity to my attention."

Maria could not help but to laugh. It took some convincing to get Anderson to approve of her trip to England. He had vehemently told her that no good work could come out of a Protestant land, but Maria had promised him that she would work in a Catholic place and stay with Catholic girls. What had really cinched the deal was when she pleaded the cause of her education, though. She was a year away from completing her _laurea magistrale,_ her university degree, and she was desperate to find some volunteer work to add to her credentials. Besides, this trip would help improve her English.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Anderson asked.

"I am," Maria said. "But, I'm starting to get a little homesick. I miss you and the children. How are they?"

"Don't worry, everyone is all right," the priest soothed her. "If you're feeling homesick, I may be able to come see you soon. I may have some business in Northern Ireland soon, so I may be able to visit you along the way."

Maria jumped up from the table. "Oh, Father, that would be wonderful! What do you have to do in Ireland?"

"Same thing as you. The archbishop was thinking of opening another branch of the orphanage there, so I'll have to scout the place out."

They talked for a little while longer, discussing charity work and the rewards of working with children. Eventually, Maria had to end the conversation before she racked up an enormous phone bill, but Anderson had one more thing left to tell her.

"Maria," he said in a stern voice she knew all too well.

"Yes, Father?"

"Be careful while you're over there. I've been following the news, and I know there are some violent things happening in the suburbs of London. Lock your doors at night, do not let anyone in the house, and for the love of Jesus Christ our Saviour, don't go anywhere without your friends."

The image of the bloody, inverted cross flashed in her mind. Maria shuddered as a terrible feeling of dread washed over her. "A-All right, Father," she stuttered. "I will be careful."

"Good girl," he said. "Now, I'll let you get off the phone. It's probably way past your bedtime. I'll keep you abreast of what's happening with the new branch, and we'll see if we cannot arrange a little visit. God bless, my child."

"God bless."

With that final goodbye, Maria reluctantly hung up the phone. She leaned back against the table, struggling to lift her heavy heart. The urge to call Father Anderson back and stay on the line with him was overwhelming, but Maria fought the desire. Yes, there were frightening things happening around London lately, but she was a grown woman now, and it impossible to hide behind her tall, imposing guardian now: He was all the way in Rome, and she was in England. She had to be strong. She had to be brave.

To soothe her anxiety, Maria made her way to the vestibule and checked the front door. The lock had been turned, and the chain was in place. No one was getting in without hers or her flatmates' permission.

Drawing in a calming breath, Maria sent a silent prayer up to God, and went to rejoin Irene and Katie in the living room.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The clock in the entrance hall chimed on the stroke of ten o' clock, and Maria had just finished sweeping the floor clean. She placed the broom back in the janitor's closet and leaned back, wincing when her spine cracked. It had been another long day at the orphanage, but she was happy and fulfilled knowing she was doing God's work.

She looked around the sparse, dimly lit hallway, wondering where Irene and Katie had gone. They usually met up in the main hallway and left together, but they were nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, Maria left the closet and made her way back to the entrance hall. Perhaps her flatmates were waiting for her there.

Maria found two people milling about in the sleek, wood-panelled entrance, but they were not who she was looking for. One of them was the head of Saint Nicholas' Institute, Oliver Blackwell, but Maria did not recognize the other man. He was tall, blonde, and fair-skinned, dressed to the nines in a long white coat, slacks, and spectacles. They both turned at the sound of her approaching footsteps.

"Ah, there you are!" Blackwell called to her. "I was wondering whether you had gone home or not."

Maria smiled and shook her head. "The children bring a lot of dirt inside. Cleaning up takes me a long time."

Blackwell returned her smile and clapped her on the shoulder. "Such a diligent worker! Maria, allow me to introduce Mr. Luke Valentine. He wandered in today and is interested in sponsoring our own Saint Nicholas'!"

Up close, Luke Valentine startled Maria. He was incredibly pale, though she could not read any sure signs of fatigue on his face. His green eyes were incredibly cold, and he offered her only the slightest of grins. In fact, his very presence was unsettling.

"Good evening, Miss…?" He extended a shockingly white hand towards her.

"Sartori. I'm Maria Sartori," she replied, slipping her hand into his. He was deathly cold, and when his fingers closed around hers for a handshake, his grip nearly cracked her knuckles. She tried her best to keep her composure and maintain a smile.

"Maria's volunteering here for the summer," Blackwell said.

"I see," Luke Valentine murmured, arching an eyebrow at the young woman. "Where are you from, Miss Sartori? I don't recognize your accent."

Maria wanted to ask him the same, because his English was different from that of the Londoners'. Still, she was not sure how long she wanted to engage this man for, so she merely told him, "I come from Rome. Outside of Vatican City." Before he could say anymore, Maria turned to the director and asked, "Mister Blackwell, do you know where is Katie and Irene? We are going home together."

Blackwell blinked and glanced around the entrance hall. "Er… I believe they already left."

"What!?" Maria exclaimed before she could stop herself. Father Anderson's warning not to travel alone rang in her head, and she suddenly felt very angry. Even after watching the news last night, Irene and Katie had the carelessness and inconsideration to leave her at the orphanage? Perhaps those girls were not as nice as she initially thought!

"Is everything all right, Maria? Do you need me to call a cab?" Blackwell asked.

A cab would have been a good idea, but Maria had no cash on her, and her budget was stretched razor thin already. It would be cheaper-but more perilous- to take the tube and then the bus to their rental house just outside of the city. She would have to refuse Blackwell's offer.

"No, thank you, sir," she said. "I will just use the public transport. I think the underground is open still."

"Allow me to walk you to the station, Miss Sartori," Luke Valentine offered. He shot her another unnerving grin, and Maria unconsciously backed away. Not only was this man making her inexplicably uncomfortable, but she could not imagine what Father Anderson would say if she allowed a man to accompany her without a chaperone. She could hear the priest shouting bible verses at her all the way from Rome.

"A-Ah, no, thank you, Signor Valentine," she responded. "I w-will be fine. _Arrivederci_ to you both."

Maria left the orphanage and made her way down the dark street. The tube station was not far from the orphanage, but the walk felt unending to her. As she passed by boarded up windows, flickering neon signs, and the occasional homeless person, she tried not to think about the images she had seen on the news last night. Tightening her hold on her purse, Maria hummed to herself and picked up her pace. When she saw the London Underground sign looming in the distance, she was flooded with relief.

The tube had arrived at the platform the moment Maria entered the station, and it only took about fifteen minutes to get to the end of the line. The ride was not as relaxing as it usually was, though. Maria felt like she was being watched, but she could not tell if it was because that was what was actually happening, or if she was just being paranoid. Every time she looked around the brightly lit, semi-filled train car, she did not see anyone staring at her. Nevertheless, she was happy to get out of the train at the last stop.

As she exited the terminus, Maria checked her watch and saw that the bus that took her directly to her house would be along in five minutes. She hurried down the street and stood under the streetlight, where the bus schedule was posted. There was no one else waiting for the bus, much to her disappointment. But, it was no matter, she told herself. The bus would come soon.

Five minutes passed, but there was no bus in sight. Maria frowned. It must have been late.

Ten minutes passed. One car drove by, but there was still no sign of the bus. She was beginning to get worried.

Fifteen minutes passed, and Maria was starting to feel anxious pangs in the pit of her stomach. To be certain, she checked the bus schedule, following the columns with her forefinger until she realized the mistake she had made: She had forgotten it was a Monday. Her bus stopped running at nine o' clock on Mondays.

Moaning, the unlucky girl glanced down the street. It was possible to walk to her house from the bus stop, but it would take her about twenty minutes. Still, what choice did she have? Neither Irene nor Katie had a car to pick her up with, and the next bus did not come until six tomorrow morning. Without a moment to lose, Maria adjusted her purse on her shoulder and started off down the road towards her house.

The moon was full that night, bathing the small town in a pale, eerie glow. The path Maria was taking was lined with trees, whose branches looked like twisted horns and claws in the dark. Somewhere at the back of her mind, Maria thought it would make a great setting for a ghost story, but she immediately put the idea out of her head. She was frightened enough as it was, and occult thoughts displeased God.

Suddenly, she heard a branch snap somewhere in the mass of trees. She froze and glanced around, her heart in her throat. Nothing but the darkness stared back at her, but she was getting that feeling again: Someone was watching her.

Maria picked up her pace and told herself it had been a squirrel. Still, the feeling would not go away. She thought she saw a figure in the corner of her eye, but when she looked over her shoulder, there was no one there. Fighting to keep down a wave of panic, she turned on her heel and marched down the street, humming a little tune to herself. She was going to be okay. Her imagination was just playing tricks on her.

Something rustled in the nearby bushes, and this time, Maria was sure she saw something move in the darkness. The young woman dashed off down the bike path, giving in completely to her survival instinct.

She had been running for her life, wondering vaguely if this was how hunted animals felt, when she was suddenly, her toe caught on something, and her feet lifted off the ground. As she flew through the air, a terrible scream ripped from her throat.

Maria landed on her forearms first, and her knees scraped the pavement as she came back down to earth. She screwed her eyes shut, certain her chin was about to grind itself into the road.

But the crushing blow never came. Instead, she felt her head hit a smooth, pliable surface. Jolted nonetheless, she lay on her face for a moment before raising herself up on her elbows. She glanced down to see that she had fallen on a pair of leather boots. Seized with dread, she gazed up and followed the length of the black-clad legs to see who the boots belonged to.

The figure that loomed over her was tall, wore a wide-brimmed hat, a long coat, and a pair of glasses. Other than those details, though, Maria could not make out a single distinguishing feature. The person's face was hidden in darkness, which terrified her even more. The young woman shrieked and scrambled away from the stranger. She raised her hands and cowered by the side of the path, tears pricking her eyes.

"Are you all right?" a deep but gentle voice asked.

Maria opened her eyes and peered over her hands at the stranger. He had moved into the streetlight now, and she could see him much clearer. He had long black hair, pale skin, and a bit of a smirk playing across his mouth. Still, that didn't lessen Maria's fear.

"S-Stay away!" she exclaimed, showing him her palms. Despite her attempts to control herself, a tear escaped her eye. " _Per cortesia_... Do not hurt me..."

The man continued to look at her for a beat before removing his glasses. Stowing them away in his pocket, he approached her without a word. Maria tensed up and balled her hands into fists.

"Be calm," the stranger said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Maria lowered her fists, but only slightly. "Then why do you f-follow me?"

A toothy smile stretched over his mouth. "My dear, if I was following you, you wouldn't have even noticed."

Before Maria could blink, he was suddenly kneeling down in front of her, the hem of his coat still billowing from his sudden movement. Maria tried to move away, but stayed put when she noticed he was looking at her bloodied leg. As soon as she lay her eyes on her injury, the cut seemed to burn and ache, as if it had been waiting for her to take notice. She bit down on her lower lip and dragged her foot towards her. She had to get up.

"Don't move," the man said. Maria obeyed the command and let her foot drop again.

The longer she sat there, the more embarrassed she became. Not only had she fallen and split open her shin, but her skirt had ridden far up her legs, and she was too scared to pull down the hem. Just when she thought her cheeks were going to burn off, the man straightened and untied the silky red cravat that had been intricately knotted at his throat. Without a word, he snaked a hand around Maria's calf and passed the long strip around her leg.

As he wound the cravat down the length of her calf, he glanced up at her through his bangs. Maria was startled to see that his almond-shaped eyes were the same shade of red as the blood that run down to her ankle.

"You're a long way from home," he noted.

"Actually," Maria began, "my house is just over-"

"I meant your real home." He bent his head over his work. "You clearly aren't from around here, _signorina._ "

Maria's stomach did a somersault. This man was strange, and she was still unsure if he was the one who was following her, but his willingness to help her eased her anxiety somewhat. The fact that he was rather handsome didn't hurt either.

The stranger knotted his cravat tightly above her ankle and rose to his feet. Maria felt positively dwarfed from her place on her behind at the side of the road.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

Maria moved her leg carefully, not wanting to loosen her silky red bandage, and ungracefully wobbled to her feet. Her big toe ached, but she was able to stand. However, when she tried to take a step, pain shot through her foot and her cut shin. She hissed in pain and stumbled over the asphalt, only to be stayed by the man's gloved hand.

"I cannot," Maria muttered, gritting her teeth. Had she broken her toe? She glanced over her shoulder at the deep crack in the asphalt she had tripped over and cringed.

"Where is your house?" the man asked.

Maria glanced up at him, gripping his hand tightly as the slight movement unbalanced her. She knew what was coming. "Ah, s-sir, you do not have to-"

"You are a young woman, walking by herself in a sparsely populated area at eleven o' clock at night, your leg is bleeding, and you can barely stand." He covered the back of her hand with his palm and bowed his head towards her. "I won't take no for an answer."

This was the second time tonight that she was going to have to refuse a man's offer to walk her home. But, as she looked up into his smiling face, her resolve to refuse him began to dissipate. He had proven to be a good Samaritan thus far, and he was not as frightening as she initially thought. After all, what would Father Anderson think if she crawled home by herself with killers on the loose? He probably would not be pleased that she had accepted a man's companionship, but he would be even more upset if she never made it home at all.

Holding that logic in her mind, Maria shyly returned his smile and said, "All right."

The stranger's grin broadened, and she could see a tooth poking out from his upper lip. "In that case, you'll have to excuse me…"

Before Maria could ask him what he meant, the man released her hand and swung his arm behind her knees. The young woman found herself cradled against the stranger's chest, her legs and shoulders caged between his biceps. Her purse hung off the crook of her elbow, swinging lazily somewhere down by his hips.

"We'll reach your home faster if I carry you," he offered as an explanation.

Maria could not even bring herself to reply before he set off down the road with her. She was not expecting this at all, and she was unsure of how to feel, cradled in the arms of a man whose name she did not even know. Was he really going to take her home, or had she allowed herself to fall into a clever trap?

For a moment, Maria was convinced she was in the process of being kidnapped, and was about to panic. But, her anxiety was quelled when the man stepped off the bike path and onto a familiar residential road. They were only two streets from her house.

"You never told me where you live" the kind stranger said, glancing down at her.

Calmed by her surroundings, Maria gave him the address, and was comforted even more when he set off in the correct direction.

"If I may ask," the man began, "what were you doing on the bike path so late at night? That isn't the safest route home."

Maria blushed and looked away from him. "I know… I missed my bus, and going through the woods is a faster way to my house."

He chuckled. "You are a risk-taker, _signorina._ "

She shook her head. "I'm not, very. I just wanted to go home."

Silence fell over them, and Maria reflected on the night's events. For all the strange and scary things that had happened, she was most at ease in the presence of this man. She was nervous, even wary, but the closer they got to her home, the more relaxed she became. As he rounded the corner and stepped onto her street, she said to him, "My name is Maria."

He glanced down at her and grinned. "How traditional. It's been a very long time since I met someone with an old name."

Maria scowled and looked out at the dark street before her. The darkness was near impenetrable, but it did not seem to scare her anymore.

"Don't look so discouraged," he murmured. "It may be traditional, but it's beautiful."

The young woman's eyes widened. No one had ever told her she had a beautiful name before. Feeling a blush colour her cheeks, she bowed her head and was about to thank him, but he spoke first.

"Isn't this your house?"

She looked up to see they were approaching a large, brick triplex at the end of the street. The porch light was still on at the end of the house, which meant Irene and Katie had not gone to bed yet. Maria's heart leapt with joy at the sight, and the last lingering strings of anxiety finally disappeared. The stranger had brought her home, safe and sound, just as he said he would.

"It is!" she exclaimed.

The gentleman carried her up to the brightly lit stoop and set her down gently on the steps. Maria gripped his forearms tightly, trying to steady herself with her injured foot. He stayed put, waiting patiently as she gathered herself. Maria marvelled at his strength. He had carried her over two long, winding streets, yet his arms did not even tremble in the slightest.

"I thank you, kindly," she said to him once she was stable on her feet.

She may have been standing on two steps, but she was still slightly below his eye level, and as she looked up at him, Maria was struck by how regal he looked in the moonlight. A smile played over his handsome face, and his bangs danced in the warm breeze that swept past them. He looked as if he had stepped out of royal portrait from centuries past.

"It was no trouble."

She watched as he lifted her hand to his lips and planted a soft, fleeting kiss on her skin. With a light squeeze, he withdrew and said, "Goodnight, Maria. Keep yourself safe."

The young woman stared in awe at him, wondering if she had fallen into a storybook. Was this man even real? She had to know, before he disappeared into the night and out of her life.

"Please, before you go, tell me," she breathed. "What are you called?"

Amusement gleamed in his blood red eyes, but he did not reply to her immediately. A gust of wind rushed by them, raising goosebumps on Maria's skin. She watched with rapt attention as his grin broadened, and he parted his lips, the promise of an answer teasing and intriguing her…

Suddenly, the creaking of hinges sounded behind her.

"Maria! Oh my God!"

The young woman whipped around to see Katie and Irene in the doorway, staring incredulously at her.

"There you are!" Irene cried. "We were so worried about you!"

Maria did not know what was going on. Were they not the ones who had abandoned her in London late at night? She turned back around, still preoccupied with knowing her saviour's name, but nothing except the empty night stared back at her. He was gone.

Maria gazed into the darkness, completely crestfallen at his disappearance. She considered running down the road to look for him, but suddenly, her two flatmates were in front of her, peppering her with questions.

"Why weren't you here? Do you know how scared we've been? We called the police and everything!" Katie was saying as tears brimmed in her eyes.

"What on earth happened to your leg?" Irene demanded, gesturing. "Are you hurt? Do we need to take you to the hospital?"

Maria stared at them. "You are… looking for me?"

"Yes!" they cried in unison.

"Then why did you leave without me?"

Katie and Irene glanced at each other. "We were told you had gone home already."

Maria blinked. "What? I was there until ten! Who said I leave?"

"Mr. Blackwell did," Katie insisted.

This was insane. All this trouble had occurred because of miscommunication? It did not make sense, especially since Blackwell knew Maria was still working. Did the man suffer from short term memory loss?

Agitated, Maria turned on her heel and hoisted herself up the stoop, only to feel a throbbing pain in her toe when she stepped up. She hissed out a mild oath and stumbled, but Katie and Irene caught her on either side just in time.

"Let's just get inside," Irene grumbled. "We'll figure this out over some tea."

As the young women helped their friend up onto the porch, Maria could not help to glance over her shoulder. With the limited time she had, she scanned the street again, hoping in vain for another glimpse of her midnight prince, who had saved her from the dangers of the night.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, guys!**


	3. A Bloody Catalyst

**Hello, dear readers! First of all, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who followed and favourited this story- It really means a lot to me. Also, I'd like to thank The Chaos Dragoness, The Eccentric DrVillain, and compa16 for the reviews; they really made my day :) Now then, on with the story!...**

* * *

Dawn was approaching, and Alucard was beginning to get sleepy. He strode through the richly decorated halls of the Hellsing manor and made his way back down to his room in the lowest basement. As he descended the stairs, he reflected on the night's events.

For all of the violence that was happening in the countryside these days, this had been a relatively uneventful night. In fact, encountering the nervous little Italian girl was the most excitement he had had in forty-eight hours.

Alucard settled into his chair and glanced down at the end table to his right. A green wine bottle and a glass of dark red liquid sat waiting for him. He leaned back in his seat and took a sip, staring into expanse of the dark chamber. He pretended he could see the young lady he met tonight, walking off into the black abyss, her purse swinging from her shoulder, and her skirt billowing about her ankles.

She had certainly piqued his interest, in more ways than one. Not only was she a foreign, conservative-looking, and rather attractive girl, but she had mentioned that someone was following her. After leaving her house, Alucard had retraced his steps and wandered through the heavily forested bike path to see if he could find anyone- or anything- that was behind all the senseless butchery recently. He had managed to pick up a very faint, unfamiliar scent, but the lingering smell of the girl's blood almost overpowered it. The trail was running cold as quickly as the sun was rising, and he would be expected back at the manor soon.

Alucard set down his glass and leaned his head into his hand. He tried to commit the scent to memory, deciding he was going to try to find it again tomorrow night. If the being to which that smell belonged was responsible for the recent murders, that meant the small London suburb was right in his or her bloody trajectory. The Italian girl could be in grave danger... What was she called again...?

 _Maria,_ Alucard thought as his eyes began to close. _Her name was Maria._

 _xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX_

Meanwhile, the young woman who occupied Alucard's thoughts was sitting on a chair in her kitchen, peeling off her sock. Irene and Katie let out cries of disgust when they saw their flatmate's toe nail hanging off by the cuticle. Maria shivered and looked away from her foot, but a part of her was relieved that her toe was not broken.

Biting down on her lip, she made quick work of bandaging the unsightly extremity. A burning ache shot from the toe all the way into her foot, making her wince. She had always had a low pain tolerance.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong," Irene was saying, leaning on the counter next to the stove. "But you thought we had abandoned you at Saint Nicholas'?"

Maria hissed through her teeth as she tightened the bandage. A droplet of blood ran down the side of her toe. "Mister Blackwell told me you leave. What am I expected to think?"

"Why didn't you call us?" Katie demanded. She was sitting in the chair across from Maria, handing her Band-Aids, alcohol wipes, and gauze as she needed. "Clearly, this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe Mr. Blackwell was confused..."

The kettle began to whistle. Before the pitch could climb too high, Irene lifted the pot off the round and poured the boiling water into three waiting mugs. As she busied herself with the tea, Maria leaned back into her chair and sighed.

"It does not matter, _comunque_... I am here, and we are safe."

Irene scoffed as she set two mugs down for the girls at the table. "You barely made it back in one piece," she said. "Thank the Lord you did, but you're still bleeding all over the floor."

Maria shifted her weight and brought her leg up onto her opposite knee. Sure enough, she was starting to bleed through her saviour's red silk tie, staining the material with dark, ugly blotches. She set to work undoing the knots immediately.

"Where did that come from?" Katie asked, pointing.

"I told you," Maria said. "The man I met made a bandage for my leg."

"That's some bandage," Irene said, settling down with her mug in hand. "Who carries around ribbons with them?"

Maria shook her head and kept her eyes on her work. "He was wearing it around his neck. He took it off and tied it on me."

The girls were silent for a moment until Katie let out a nervous giggle. "What a gentleman."

Maria blushed and let out a small laugh. Irene, however, was not as willing to let that comment slide.

"It isn't funny," she snapped. "There are killers out there, and that bloke could have been one of them."

The stained cravat slid off of Maria's leg and dropped to the floor. The young woman reached down and scooped it up.

"I do not think he is the one doing the crimes," Maria mused. "He seemed too kind… He could have hurt me if he want, but he brought me back home instead."

"Then, let's just say you're lucky, and God was watching over you," Katie concluded. She crossed her legs on her chair and took a sip of her tea. "Did you catch his name, Maria?"

The girl was silent for a moment, absentmindedly winding gauze around her leg. The image of the tall, dark prince flashed in her mind. She remembered how the breeze had combed through his long, black hair, and how gentle his otherwise fearsome eyes seemed when he looked down at her… For a moment, Maria considered telling her friends how he had carried her home, but decided against it. She wanted to keep that memory for herself.

"No," she answered Katie. "I do not know his name."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning, Maria discovered that she could walk without help, albeit with a limp. Her big toe still ached, and an angry purple bruise was starting to form under the gauze on her leg, but she was determined to go to work.

The commute to London went by faster than it usually did, and the three girls were discussing how to approach Mr. Blackwell. Although he may have made an honest mistake, they had endured no small amount of stress last night. Besides, they wanted to delegate the tasks with him to ensure that Maria would not have to spend too much time on her feet that day.

However, when Maria, Irene, and Katie arrived at Saint Nicholas' Institute, they were confused to discover that Blackwell was not there. Instead, one of the nuns from the neighboring Benedictine convent was in charge.

"Mr. Blackwell had to take a leave of absence," she explained to the girls when they walked into the foyer. "So, I'll be here all week. I'm Sister Margaret, by the way."

The three roommates explained what had happened last night to the black-clad nun, and Maria was assigned to filing paper work for the morning. Office work was the last thing she wanted to do, but she could not imagine running after children for hours on end with her injuries. Without further ado, Maria thanked Sister Margaret and limped off to the front office.

Placing different forms, memos, and letters into coloured-coded folders was more boring than Maria had imagined, and about two hours into her work, her mind began to wander. As she sat in the small, white-and-grey office, she wondered where Mr. Blackwell had gone. Saint Nicholas' was on the upswing, and it was strange that he was not around to supervise his volunteers.

 _Perhaps he had to confirm a deal with that strange Mr. Valentine,_ Maria thought. She shivered and put the thought immediately from her head. She did not want to think about the weirdness of last night. The men's financial deals were none of her business, anyway.

As she filed the papers, Maria was suddenly reminded that she was going to have to relate the happenings of last night to Father Anderson. She glanced down at her bandaged leg, hidden beneath her long skirt. He usually called every three days, which meant she had forty-eight hours left to consider how she was going to tell him she disobeyed his advice, hurt herself, and had to be carried home by a stranger.

Maria wanted desperately to leave that story out, but she had learned long ago that it was no use hiding her sins from either Anderson or God. As a child, she had been taught that good Catholics were honest about their actions, and when it was time for confession, it would not do to hold back. That ideology seemed easier to subscribe to when the worst of your sins was running around in a cape, pretending to be a creature of the night. Now, Maria felt like she had truly done something wrong. This was going to be a hard story to relate, but the good priest had taught her well, and she would confess.

Despite the drudging work in the office, the day passed quickly, and Sister Margaret released the volunteers at six o' clock- The first day they finished early since starting at Saint Nicholas'. They caught the next tube home, got to the bus on time (much to Maria's relief), and cooked a simple but delicious spaghetti dinner.

After dinner, the three flatmates sat on the stoop with cans of soda in hand. The evening was warm, the sun was a brilliant pink, and with her belly and heart full, Maria forgot her troubles. When she was sitting, her toe and leg did not hurt, and Katie's and Irene's good moods were infectious. She even forgot about her impending confession to Father Anderson.

"Ooh, look at that strange bird," Katie said suddenly, pointing to the sky.

"That's not a bird, silly," Irene laughed. "It's a bat."

Maria inclined her head and saw a small, black thing flit across the colorful sky. She watched it flap away as Katie exclaimed, "Ew! Don't let it near me."

"It's flying away, Katie. Don't be such a goose," Irene said.

"I don't care! I heard bats drink blood, and I don't want it near me!"

Her friend's words reminded Maria of that verse from Deuteronomy that Father Anderson once threw at her: " _The blood is the life, and you must not eat the life…"_ There was no questioning her guardian's wisdom when it came to Scripture, but Maria could not help but to wonder why God created beings that fed on blood if it was such a sin.

"Do not worry," Maria muttered, watching the speck of black against the sunset. "Only vampire bats drinks blood."

"I saw that in a movie once," Irene put in, knocking back her soda. "Only it was a real vampire, and he changed his shape by night!"

Maria turned to her friends, her interest piqued. Father Anderson never let the orphans watch any horror movies, but she had heard of their existence. Even when she grew into adulthood, though, she had resisted the desire to watch one. She was frightened that if she did, she would like it, and that would be another thirty Hail Mary's.

But, this was where the conversation was going, and she could not be a spoil sport. "Tell me about it."

Irene laughed and set her empty can aside. "It was an awful movie, really, but it still scared me... I went to see it as a teenager with a group of friends."

"What happened in this film?" Maria pressed.

"Oh, I think it was just another adaptation of _Dracula_. Still, that bat scene stuck in my memory, because no one could fake a scream like I did!"

"You know, he was a real person," Katie put in. "Dracula, I mean."

"Did not Bram Stoker imagine him?" Maria asked.

Katie shook her head and sipped her drink. "No, he was real. He was a fifteenth century prince, living somewhere out in Eastern Europe… I can't remember exactly where, but trust me- I'm a history student."

"Was he a vampire?" Irene joked.

"He may well have been. I heard he was a very bad man."

"In what sense?"

"He stuck poles through people and left them up to die!"

Irene's smile disappeared, and her face blanched. "Oh… That's a terrible way to be killed."

"Much like our own Saviour died, don't you think?" Katie murmured, gazing off into the sunset.

While her friends began to discuss whether it was worse to be crucified or impaled, Maria remained silent. She had never read Stoker's novel, but she was equally repelled and intrigued by what Katie and Irene said. The greatest supernatural villain of all time was based on a real person? She never knew that. What sort of man could be so scary as to have influenced a classic piece of horror literature? For perhaps the hundredth time in her life, Maria was seized with a sick, burning sense of curiosity that she knew was not good for her.

"We should go inside," Irene said, interrupting Maria's thoughts. "It will be dark soon."

Sure enough, the sun was almost out of sight, and the first few stars of the evening were winking down at the girls from the darkening sky. Katie grasped Maria's hand and hauled her up, and the stinging pain was suddenly back in her toe. Carefully, Maria limped up the stairs and disappeared into the house with the other girls.

The fading daylight outside made the interior of the house look gloomy, and Maria felt her good mood ebb away. It was cooler inside, and the furniture looked like black, lifeless shapes. In an instant, she was seized by a powerful bout of homesickness as she recalled how warm and inviting the orphanage back in Rome was.

The lock clicked shut and the chain rattled as Katie slid it into place. Irene strode into the dark living room, covering a yawn.

"I don't know about you lot, but I'm going to bed," she announced.

"Me too," Katie said, which meant Maria had no choice but to retire as well.

The three girls bade goodnight to each other before turning in. Maria stepped into her room, the last one down the hall, and flicked on the light. A twin bed with a colorful quilt, a wooden bedside table, and a matching dresser was waiting for her. She tossed her clothes into the hamper at the foot of her bed and slipped into her favorite nightgown.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, Maria returned to her small quarters and shut off the light before slipping into her bed. As she rolled over into her favorite sleeping position, she willed the negative mood that had taken a hold of her to go away. She did not know what was wrong with her, but the moment she stepped back into the house that evening, she could not shake the feeling of foreboding and homesickness that had seized her. She was supposed to be having fun in England, not worrying about things she could not even give a name to.

Eventually, Maria grew too tired to care and decided her bad mood was a result of her homesickness, the stress of the previous night, and her anxiety over having to relate it all to Father Anderson later. In an attempt to distract herself, she reached over to her bedside table, where her prince's cravat lay folded on the polished surface. Holding the silky ribbon in her hand, she snuggled down under her covers and let herself fall into the oblivion of sleep, wondering if she would ever see the handsome owner of the cravat ever again.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

A frantic pounding on the front door sounded late in the night. Maria was jolted out of a dreamless sleep by the noise, and she forgot where she was for a moment. As the banging continued, Maria grasped the headboard and hauled herself out of bed. Something constricted around her hand with the movement, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed she still had her prince's tie wrapped around her hand.

The incessant noise distracted her, though, and Maria hurried out of the room with the ribbon. In the hallway, she saw Irene and Katie emerging from their bedrooms, hair tousled and eyes bleary.

"What on earth is going on?" Katie murmured, rubbing her eyes. "Is that someone at the door?"

"I think yes," Maria answered.

"It's three in the bloody morning," Irene grumbled as she tied her housecoat closed. "I'm going to give them a piece of my mind."

The agitated young woman headed to the vestibule, but the news story from earlier that week flashed in Maria's mind. She bounded after her roommate and blocked her path.

" _Aspetta,_ Irene," she blurted, "Father Anderson tells me to be careful with visitors in the night. I think we must not open the door to them."

Irene's face softened when she realized her flatmate was right. There were new reports of violence every day, and it would be unwise to fling the door open and confront whoever was on the other side without some caution.

"I will look through the peephole first," she promised. She stepped around Maria, and the latter followed her into the vestibule. Anticipation gnawed at her stomach, and she hid behind the wall separating the entrance from the living room. Maria watched intently around the corner as Irene leaned on the door and peered through the little glass orb. Her sudden gasp made Maria jump.

"It's Jane and Peter!" she exclaimed. "God have mercy, they're badly hurt!"

Maria gasped. Jane and Peter lived next door to the girls, and the couple had been nothing but kind to her since her arrival in England a month ago. She immediately felt guilty for advising Irene to ignore the knocking. What if the married couple narrowly escaped from the real killers?

Katie stood off to the side and watched Irene unlatch the chain. She then unlocked the door and pulled it open, the light of the full moon lighting up her face as it pooled into the room.

Suddenly, a voice that was decidedly neither Peter's nor Jane's cried out, "Surprise, bitch!" and the shots began.

Irene did not even have time to scream before a round of bullets was emptied into her. The sparks from a gun that Maria could not see lit up the gruesome spectacle. Irene was shot repeatedly, the merciless blows sending her back into vestibule. Blood burst from the girl's wounds, and she was down in an instant.

Katie shrieked and dove for her flatmate, but Maria could neither move nor make a sound. She watched in horror as the bloody, pale forms of Peter and Jane glided into the antechamber, heavy weaponry in hand.

Only, it was not Peter and Jane. Rather, it was the sallow, lifeless bodies of the married couple being carried and manipulated by two people. The young man, who had an arm around Peter's middle and carried a heavy firearm in his hand, was tall, fair, and sported a wool tuque. The person carrying Jane was a girl who looked close in age to her partner, and she too wore a hat, a bloodstained long-sleeve shirt, and a maniacal grin.

They stepped into the flat and threw Jane and Peter aside. The young man reloaded his gun and said, "Well, looks like we got ourselves a sorority here!"

From her place on the floor, Katie was desperately trying to staunch Irene's wounds. Her hysterical screaming drew the attention of the female attacker, and with a casualness that sickened Maria, she raised her gun and buried a bullet in the back of Katie's head.

"That shut her up good," the girl cackled.

The young man slammed the door shut and stepped into the house while the girl made her way over to Irene and Katie's prone figures. Maria was too scared to run away, but it seemed that the attackers did not know she was there. She was behind the wall, hidden in the shadows, and was stunned into silence. Her inactivity had saved her life.

"Oi, babe!" the girl shouted to her partner. "This one's still alive!"

She was bent over Irene, and sure enough, Maria could hear a faint gurgling coming from her friend. The hidden girl watched in disgust as the female assailant dipped her finger into one of Irene's wounds and lapped at the blood. Irene gave a pitiful moan.

"She tastes good too!" the gunwoman said. She looked over her shoulder and flashed the boy a wide smile, revealing two deathly sharp canines protruding from her upper lip. "You gotta try, babe!"

Maria's stomach churned dangerously, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from being sick. That movement was a mistake, though, because the young man suddenly turned his fiery red gaze in her direction.

"Hang on," he muttered. A menacing grin spread over his face. "I think we've got another one in here somewhere."

He knew she was there. Maria did not know how he knew, considering she was partially hidden, but he was going to walk into the living room, he was going to see her, and he was going to kill her. The front door was closed, and the girl was still bent over Irene and Katie's bodies. Maria was trapped.

Without a second thought, she lunged out from behind the wall and dashed for the kitchen. The boy cried out in surprise and fired at her. Maria threw herself down onto the floor and scrambled through the sitting room on her hands and knees. The bullets had stopped momentarily, though, and she heard the boy cry out, "Shit! Out already!"

She leapt up and threw herself against the kitchen door. Once inside, she groped through the darkness and found the phone. But, as soon as she picked it up, she was met with a horrible surprise: She heard nothing. Not even a dial tone. Panicked, she whipped her head around and noticed there was a thick, black wire hanging down to the ground outside the kitchen window. The telephone wire was down.

Maria did not know who or what had damaged the wire so badly, but she did know now that she was left without many options. She could not call the police, she could not leave through the front door, and she could not even climb through the windows- Most were either single-paned or too small for her to crawl through.

Over the erratic beating of her heart, she could hear the attackers talking to each other in the living room. They were not coming for her just yet.

In a last bid to save her life, Maria ran on her tiptoes to her room. She burst in, shut the door behind her, and dove into the closet across from her bed. As she shut the door, a loud bang shook the house and pulled a startled shout from her throat. Tears began to materialize in her eyes, and she waited with baited breath for the attackers to start looking for her.

On the odd occasion where she wondered about death, Maria never envisioned herself dying like this. She always thought she would be an old woman, lying in a comfortable bed surrounded by her loved ones, with a priest reciting the last rites over her as she prepared to enter Heaven. Now, she was going to die a painful, bloody, premature death without a final confession or one last goodbye to Father Anderson. Despite her best efforts to stay quiet, the terrified girl began to sob.

Suddenly, the harsh, rhythmic clacking of bullets being fired rang through the house. Over the cacophony, Maria could hear the young man laughing hysterically. Against her will, her mind conjured up all sorts of horrible images of what they could have been doing to Katie and Irene. Screwing her eyes shut, Maria began to whisper the Apostle's Creed to herself. She was interrupted in the middle of her prayer, though, when she heard a voice that did not belong to either the attackers or her flatmates.

"You dare to call yourself Nosferatu? _You disgust me!_ "

Maria fell silent. She knew that voice. In her paralyzing fear, she could not recall where, but she had heard it before.

She did not have long to contemplate before her bedroom door burst open. She watched through the slits in her closet's wooden panels as the young man dashed into her bedroom. Maria was intrigued to see a look of utter terror on his face before he turned and was shot in the shoulder.

Bullets flew into the young man relentlessly, pinning him to the wall. Maria could not see who was shooting the attacker until the second assailant stepped far enough into her room. Peering intently through the door, she watched as a tall, dark-haired man in a red coat and wide-brimmed hat shot at the boy with a heavy silver pistol. Maria's jaw dropped.

 _My prince?!_

The charming man who had carried her home last night was barely recognizable anymore. Gone was his gentle smile, his delicate movements, and impeccable manners. Instead, the person Maria saw walk into her room was intent on doing harm. He walked up to the bleeding young man with a heavy step, a malicious smile, and air of twisted delight.

Maria watched the prince stow his gun away in the folds of his coat. He looked up at the bullet-riddled young man, raised his hand, and thrust his fingers through the attacker's chest. The boy screamed in pain, and Maria's saviour pulled his hand out in an upwards motion. Unbelievably, the attacker's body did not fall to the floor in a bloody mess, but dissolved into little particles of dust that seemed to glow with a pale blue aura in the moonlight. Once the young man's body was gone, the prince scoffed derisively and turned around, murmuring, "Your turn, police girl."

She did not know what that was supposed to mean, but she did not care at the moment. Maria stood rooted to the ground in her closet, trying to comprehend the devilry she had just witnessed. Somehow, she was still alive, but her flatmates and their murderers were dead. Somehow, the man she had been thinking about before bed was here, but he was not how she remembered him. And, was it he who had called the attackers "Nosferatu"? That was a word usually ascribed to vampires…

Her saviour was on his way out of her room when he stopped abruptly. Slowly, he turned towards the closet she was hiding in. Maria stared back at him, realizing that she was hyperventilating rather loudly.

She saw his expression soften as he stepped towards the closet and reached to grasp the handle. The door creaked open, and suddenly she was face to face with the man who had saved her life twice. She stared up into his eyes and saw her reflection in his glasses: A scared, pale young woman with tousled brown hair, tear-filled green eyes, and a scarlet ribbon still wrapped tightly around her left hand.

" _Dio, abbi pieta…_ "

That was the last thing she remembered saying before her vision tunnelled, and she fell into oblivion, away from the death and away from the horror that had suddenly come upon her life.

* * *

 **And that's a wrap (for now)! By the way, for those of you who were wondering, the translations for Maria's Italian is as follows...**

 **\- "comunque" = anyway**

 **\- "aspetta" = wait**

 **\- "Dio, abbi pieta" = God, have mercy**

 **I'm not a native Italian speaker, so I had to rely on online dictionaries and search engines for these words. If any of you are fluent in the language and see that I've made a mistake, please tell me, and I'll correct it ASAP. Thanks for reading! :)**


	4. A Crack in the Mortar

**Hello, my lovely readers! I hope I didn't keep you too long! Here is Chapter Three (or Four, if you want to count the prologue), but before we get into it, I want to thank everyone who liked and followed this story. It means a lot to know you guys want more :) And of course, thank you to my reviewers! Let's respond to some of these here comments...**

 **The Eccentric DrVillain : Thank you for (both) the detailed review(s)! Your constructive suggestions and encouragement are much appreciated! **

**maniah: I'm glad you like the premise... I wanted to stay away from the "vampire-hostage" situation because it seems to be something that happens often in this fandom... Not that it's necessarily a bad thing, but I wanted to go for something different lol**

 **witch of blood, Duchess K, darkangelynn5, and wolf-akuma : Thank you for your patience- I hope I delivered! **

**Guest : If Alucard seems to be in-character to you, then I will sleep easier tonight... I'm serious about that, his character is so hard to understand sometimes, he stresses me out! xD But still, thank you! **

**Okay, I'm done my speech. On with the story!**

* * *

Integra stood on the sidewalk across from the desecrated triplex, her gaze trained on the roof. The gunwoman had run screaming from the house almost as soon as Alucard shot the door in, and everyone was now waiting for Seras Victoria, who was perched on the roof, to shoot down the remaining vampire.

Amidst the police cruisers, ambulances, and the helicopter overhead, a movement by the front door caught Integra's eye. Alucard emerged from the house, holding something in his arms. As he made his way through the busy policemen, Integra made out the figure of a young woman cradled against his chest. She stepped off the sidewalk and approached him.

"What's this?" she asked, peering down at the girl. She looked about Integra's age, and the latter was surprised to see that the stranger had not sustained any bodily injury. In fact, on closer inspection, she noticed that she was breathing.

"I found her hiding in the closet," Alucard explained. "She fainted as soon as I opened the door."

"Did she see anything?"

"Everything."

Integra scowled. This was going to be her mess to clean up now. Sighing, she gestured to the nearby ambulance and said, "Leave her there for now. We'll deal with this later."

Alucard carried the faint young woman to the ambulance and handed her off to the paramedics. Once his hands were free, he rounded the side of the house and disappeared into the night. Integra saw him reappear on the triplex's roof, standing directly behind Seras as he encouraged her to shoot.

As the new vampire debilitated, Inetgra glanced back at the ambulance. The paramedics were taking the girl's vitals, but she still did not stir. It did not take long before they loaded her into the truck and drove off with the sirens wailing. Integra sighed and wondered just how traumatized the young lady would be when she woke up. She prayed the girl would dismiss what happened as a trauma-induced hallucination. Not many people believed in vampires these days, but one could never be too careful with a survivor of a supernatural attack.

Suddenly, a shot rang out through the night. Integra lifted her gaze and saw Seras holding up her rifle, the barrel smoking. She had finally killed the monster. Integra allowed herself a small, satisfied grin. At least that was one stressor out of her life.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Maria was running through the hallways of the orphanage. A thunderstorm raged outdoors, cutting off the power and plunging the corridors into near darkness.

She was being chased. She could not see who was on her heels, but she could hear the mocking laughter at her back: It was the young man and woman with the heavy guns, glowing red eyes, and impossibly sharp teeth. They wanted Maria's blood.

She dashed down the hallway, groping blindly until she felt herself run into a door. She burst through the entrance and stumbled into the children's dormitory. Lightning flashed out the window and momentarily lit up the room. The beds were empty except for the two nearest to Maria, where Katie and Irene lay with their arms crossed over their chests.

Maria stared, growing even more frightened at the sight of them, when another bolt of lightning illuminated the room. This time, she saw a tall, hulking silhouette with a wide-brimmed hat and red-tinted glasses standing before her. Paralyzed, she watched as the figure reached into the folds of his coat and produced a gleaming silver pistol.

"Maria," he said, his voice echoing in her head. "Get down."

And suddenly, she was on the ground, covering the back of her head with her hands. Above her, gunshots filled the air, one after the other in a deafening staccato. One, two, three…

They were getting louder. Maria shut her eyes and clapped her hands over her ears.

 _Please, please, God,_ she thought to herself. _Let this be over._

God must have heard her prayers, because the shooting ceased immediately. Maria lay very still. Was she safe now? Slowly, she rolled onto her back and forced her eyes open.

A harsh fluorescent light was staring back at her. She blinked and noticed someone was moving on the edge of her peripheral vision. Suddenly, the light was blotted out by a bearded, wizened old face.

"Ah, you're awake, my girl," the man said.

Slowly, Maria raised herself up onto her elbows and looked down the length of her body. Her legs were covered by a thin, pale blue sheet, and there were railings on either side of her bed. She looked around, suddenly becoming aware of the whirring of machines, the smell of antiseptic, and the pale light of early morning trickling in through the window to light up the small hospital room.

"What has happened?" she murmured.

"You're at Greenwich General Hospital," the doctor answered her, moving off to the side of the room. "You were brought in at around four this morning to be treated for shock. How are you feeling now? Any aches or pains? Muscle tension?"

Maria glanced around the room again, ignoring his questions. Her nightmare was still fresh in her mind. "Where is Katie and Irene?"

"Pardon me?"

She turned to him. "My flatmates. Where are they? Do they live?"

The expression on the doctor's face frightened Maria. His thick grey eyebrows pulled together, and he was quick to look away from her. Her stomach twisted painfully as she watched a frown settle over his mouth. He glanced down at the foot of her bed and brought up a chair to the headboard.

"Miss Sartori, you are a very fortunate woman," he began. "You managed to survive an otherwise hopeless situation, and you escaped without any physical injuries."

"But my friends?" Maria asked, tears pricking the back of her eyes.

The doctor shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, my dear," he murmured. "But they could not be helped."

As Maria stared at him as memories of last night flashed in her mind. She saw Irene stumble back into the vestibule, her body relentlessly punctured; she saw Katie's head snap up as a bullet buried itself in the back of her skull. What was Maria thinking? There was no way her friends survived such brutality. With an anguished cry, she let her head fall into her hands, and she began to sob.

The doctor moved closer to the bed. "There, there," he murmured. "They were brave girls, Miss Sartori. Their suffering is over, now."

While that may have been true, it did not make Maria feel better. She had only known Irene and Katie for a month, but they had become fast friends. How unfair it was that they had to lose their lives while Maria hid like a coward!

While she wept, the doctor withdrew to fetch her some tissues. With the box balanced on her legs, the distraught young woman wiped her eyes and tried to regain control of herself. He was still trying to speak to her.

"I know this is a difficult time for you, Miss," he said. "I would be happy to send the grief counsellor to you later on today, but right now, I need to know if there is anyone you can call. You're a long way from home, and someone on your end needs to know you're here."

Maria nodded silently.

"Good," the doctor said. With a final glance at her profile, the doctor left her room, saying, "You should be out of here soon, Miss Sartori. I'll make sure the counsellor comes to see you before you're discharged."

The rattle of the curtain rungs sounded as the doctor pulled her curtain closed, giving her the privacy she desperately needed. When she was sure she was alone, Maria fell back onto her pillow and let herself cry.

She tried not to think about the horror of last night. She tried to imagine Irene and Katie as she knew them: Smiling, healthy, and happy to be doing God's work. Maria thought about them gliding through the mists of Heaven, keeping the company of saints and angels. But, it was no use. Whenever she thought about the fact that her friends were gone, she unwittingly remembered how they had died, and the reality of what had happened added to her grief.

Two tearful hours later, Maria felt drained. She did not have the energy to weep anymore, and she found herself lying on her side in the bed, gazing past the window and into the distance. She knew the grief counsellor would be coming to her soon, but she was not in the mood to talk to a stranger at the moment; she wanted to speak to Father Anderson.

She reached for the phone on her bedside table and dialled the number of his cell phone. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if the hospital would be charged for her long distance call. Realizing quickly that that was not her problem, Maria held the phone up to her ears and listened. The line clicked on the first ring.

"Yes? Hello?"

It was Father Anderson. He sounded rather anxious, but hearing his voice filled her with relief.

"Father," she said hoarsely. "Father, it's me- It's Maria."

"Maria! Thank God in Heaven!" Anderson exclaimed. "I've been trying to get a hold of you, but no one was answering at your house."

Maria nodded and bit down on her lip as fresh tears formed in her eyes. There was so much she had to tell him, and a mere few hours ago, she thought she would never get the opportunity to hear his voice again.

"Father, something terrible has happened." She let out a sob, unable to help herself. "I- we- we were attacked. My flatmates and I."

"Attacked?" Anderson repeated. His voice was steadily rising. "What do you mean attacked? What's going on?"

She tried to answer, but all that spilled from her mouth was a stream of sobs. She barely had enough breath to form words.

"The a-attackers you warned me about… They came…I told Irene not to open the door, but they- they had killed Peter and Jane… And we thought they were in trouble, but it wasn't them… They killed Irene and Katie…" She sucked in a quivering breath and wailed, "Forgive me, Father, I should have listened to you."

"Maria," he repeated, sounding desperate now. "Where are you? Are you in any danger?"

The hysterical young woman sucked in a breath and forced herself to calm down. Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, she answered, "I'm in the hospital. I'm not hurt, but I was admitted for shock."

"Who brought you?" Anderson demanded.

Maria fell silent. She was not conscious for the ride to the hospital. All she remembered before blacking out was seeing the face of her midnight prince in front of her. Was he the one who brought her here?

"I… don't know exactly, Father," she murmured.

"What do you mean you don't know 'exactly'?"

"I fainted before the police arrived."

She heard Anderson heave a sigh. "Poor child… I _knew_ no good was going to come out of this. What did you expect when you're surrounded by criminals and heathens?"

Maria felt her heart sink. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not blaming you, Maria," he said. "I'm…"

He trailed off and said nothing for so long that Maria thought she had lost connection with him. Just before she was about to ask for him, he finally murmured, "I'm just thankful you're alive."

The young woman sighed and leaned back onto her pillow. She was grateful she had gotten to keep her life as well. But, Katie and Irene had not been so fortunate. The image of their unmoving bodies on the ground flashed in Maria's mind, and for a moment, she thought she was going to be sick.

"I'm leaving for Northern Ireland tomorrow afternoon," Anderson was saying. "Once my business is concluded there, I'll get the next plane to London and come see you. I shouldn't be there more than a few nights."

A few nights sounded much too long to Maria. She wanted Father Anderson here now, so she could cry on his shoulder and confess everything to him, just as she did when she was a child. As selfish as it was, Maria wanted him to abandon his trip to Ireland and come directly to her.

But, she was safe, and there were children out there who needed his help more than she did at the moment. She silently asked God for His grace and tried to keep in mind that Anderson was doing the Lord's work. Perhaps the poor Irish orphans needed the priest as much as she had needed the dark haired stranger last night. Maria decided she was more than willing to share her guardian if it meant there would be a handful more happy children in the world. Until then, she would learn to be patient.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Maria was released from the hospital after a day. The grief counsellor, a small, maternal woman, had come to speak with her for a little while after she got off the phone with Father Anderson. Maria did not feel like discussing what had happened with her, though, and the counsellor was resigned to referencing her to an external therapist.

The young woman left the hospital with nothing but her wallet, her passport (which had been returned to her by the London police that afternoon), and a newly washed, second-hand dress on her back, courtesy of the Greenwich General Hospital. Her doctor had called a taxi to take her to the police department, where she would pick up the rest of her belongings.

At the station, Maria was surprised to receive her suitcase, clothes, and purse without any delay. She had been expecting the police to question her, or prompt her to write an assault report before she got her stuff back. Instead, a lean, stern-looking policewoman promptly handed over the young woman's possessions and said laconically, "Your house is under investigation. D'you have anyone to call?"

Maria said that she did and quickly left the building, her suitcase and bag in tow. She made her way down the sidewalk and up to a payphone, fumbling in her change purse and address book. She had not seen him in days, but she decided her best bet was to call Oliver Blackwell. He was practically her boss and the man responsible for recruiting volunteers for the orphanage. He would help her organize herself.

After fishing out twenty-five pence, she squeezed herself into the big, red telephone booth and dialled Blackwell's cell. It rang and rang, but to her disappointment, her call went to his voicemail.

Maria hung up the phone and tried his home number. The result was the same. Heaving a sigh, she hung up again and used the last of her change to call the orphanage.

This time, someone did pick up, but it was not Oliver Blackwell.

"Hello, Saint Nicholas' Institute," a familiar, lilting voice said.

"Ah, is this Sister…" Maria could not remember the nun's name.

"Margaret."

"Yes! Sister Margaret, it is Maria, the volunteer who-"

"Yes, I remember you," the nun interrupted with a good-natured laugh. "What can I do for you, my dear?"

She sounded like she was in a good mood, which made having to relate the events of the past forty-eight hours to her that much harder. When Maria got to the part where the attackers barged into her house, Sister Margaret gasped in horror.

"That was _your_ home?"

Maria frowned. "Yes, it was."

"Good Heavens, I saw that story on the tele just yesterday!" she exclaimed. "You poor girl, how on earth did you survive?"

"I hid in the closet," Maria answered, her voice breaking. "I was took to the hospital, but I am not hurt."

"Normally I would say you are a very lucky girl, Maria Sartori," Sister Margaret said, "but no person should ever have to witness such senseless violence."

Maria leaned heavily on the phone as she remembered how the male attacker had dissolved into dust before her very eyes. She swallowed back a wave of nausea and tried to focus on the next order of business.

"Sister," she murmured. "The _polizia_ tell me the house is under investigation, and I do not know where to go. I called Mister Blackwell, but he did not answer his telephone…"

"Don't worry. I have a directory right here, and I can find you another place to live within the week," the nun promised.

There was a faint rustling of papers in the background, and then Sister Margaret said, "Here! There is a flat near the Piccadilly tube station. It's not too expensive, and it has three bedrooms…"

Maria's vision grew blurry. Three bedrooms sounded nice, but there were two people missing from her household. unable to occupy those rooms. She swallowed over a lump in her throat and choked out, "I do not need such space, Sister… Just one bedroom, that is okay…"

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The funeral was held two days later. Kate Frederickson and Irene Cavanaugh's families had been close, and both young women were mourned together, their caskets side by side in a small parish church just outside of London.

Integra did not attend the service, but she watched from afar as the girls were buried in the cemetery. It was a rainy day, and Walter was holding an umbrella up over her as her eyes followed the polished wooden coffins down into the ground. From her place by a cold, grey mausoleum, she could hear the anguished cries of the bereaved parents. She closed her eyes and sighed. It was Hellsing's job to ensure the civilian population was kept safe from vampires. But, they could not help everyone, and the mothers' wailing drove that sad point home.

When the caskets had been lowered into their respective graves, and the Catholic priest had said a final prayer, the mourners slowly dispersed. Integra and Walter moved forward, slowly, respectfully, careful to avoid the still-grieving parents. This was a very sad occasion, but it was important that Integra found who she was looking for: The lone survivor of the vicious Bonnie and Clyde-like attack.

"Isn't that her, Sir Integra?" Walter murmured, pointing.

The leader of Hellsing followed her butler's finger and spotted a young woman in a long black dress and scarf walking away from the funeral with an umbrella in hand. She had long brown hair, olive skin, and when she turned to look back at the mourners, Integra recognized her bow-shaped mouth, button nose, and wide forehead. That was her survivor.

Integra and Walter followed the girl down the cemetery path, picking up the pace as they got farther away from the fresh graves. When the young woman did not turn around, Integra decided to call out gently to her.

"Excuse me."

The girl stopped abruptly and whipped her head around, her expression telling Integra that she had frightened the poor creature. She slowed to a halt a fair distance from the survivor, not wanting to intimidate her further.

"Are you Maria Sartori?" she asked.

The young woman turned her body towards them slowly, but Integra could see even from a small distance that she was gripping the handle of her umbrella tightly.

"I-I am," she stammered, as if her voice tripped over its own thick accent.

Integra slowly moved forward, feeling like she was trying to calm a cornered animal. "I want to offer you my condolences. I'm sure this ordeal has been very trying for you."

Maria Sartori's face softened, and she nodded. "Yes. Katie and Irene were good girls…" Her eyes began to shimmer.

Integra did not look away or flinch as the girl began to tear up, but she desperately wished she would not cry. She understood that she was grieving- and very likely traumatized, too- but, they had important matters to discuss.

"My apologies for approaching you so soon after their funeral," Integra continued, "but you need to come with me."

Maria did not say anything, but her glassy eyes grew wide. The only noise that filled the silence was the steady pattering of rain on their umbrellas. Finally, the girl managed out, "Why? What d-do you need with me?"

"Trust me," Integra said firmly. "If you want answers for what you witnessed on Tuesday night, you'd be wise to accept my invitation."

Fear skittered over the young woman's face. Integra knew she hit a nerve, but this had to be done. She could not allow the survivor of a vampire attack and a witness to Hellsing's work to wander about without any promise of confidentiality.

Eventually, the fear abated as Maria pondered Integra's words.

"Okay," she acquiesced. "Where do you want to go?"

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The little cafe was in a quiet, secluded area of London, just a short walk away from the Thames. Maria sat in the corner of the semi-occupied restaurant with a cup of tea in front of her, staring at the woman across the table from her.

She had introduced herself as Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, and she looked about Maria's age, perhaps a year or two her junior. Despite her youth, Maria felt slightly intimidated by the stranger. She was quite tall, dressed in a rather masculine-looking suit, tie, and slacks, and she carried herself with confidence.

"Now, Miss Sartori, I'm very sorry to place this burden on you," Integra said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigar case. "But I need to ask you a difficult question."

The tone of her voice made Maria anxious. "What is it, Miss Hellsing?"

Integra pulled a cigar from the box and caught it between her lips. "I need you to tell me exactly what you witnessed earlier this week."

Maria sipped her tea, effectively burning her tongue. As she wiped her mouth with a napkin, she thought back to Tuesday night and remembered the gruesome spectacle she had watched from her place in the closet. She shook her head and lowered her napkin.

"If I tell you," she began, "you will not believe me."

Integra lit the roll of tobacco before flashed Maria a small, knowing grin. "Try me," she dared.

Maria hesitated, watching Integra blow smoke out of the corner of her mouth. She desperately wanted to keep what she saw to herself, frightened that she would sound as crazy as she felt at times. But, this Hellsing woman seemed so sure of herself and of what Maria had to say. Would she still suspend her disbelief the moment Maria's story got weird?

Before she could stall any longer, the Catholic girl gripped the handle of her cup and forced herself to recount the murder in her bedroom. She spoke in a low voice, praying that no one else in the café would overhear, especially when she included the part about the gunman turning into dust. To her surprise, though, Integra did not bat an eye at that part.

When she finished, Maria shook her head and murmured, "I do not understand what I saw that night. But, I tell you the whole truth, Miss Hellsing."

"You may call me Sir Integra," the other woman said gently.

The Italian girl blinked. She had always thought that "sir" was used primarily for men. The English were a strange people.

Pushing the thought from her head, she said quietly, "Well, that is all I can say. That is what I saw."

The two women fell silent for a moment. Integra eyed Maria carefully as she took a drag of her cigar, her brow knitted. Her scrutiny was making Maria nervous.

"There's something you aren't telling me, Miss Sartori," she said.

"Pardon?"

"You're hiding something," Integra pressed. "Please, you must tell me everything you can remember."

Maria bit her lip and looked away from the woman. She was holding one piece of information back for a few reasons: She was not sure if it was relevant to what Integra wanted to speak to her about, and it was also something she only shared with Katie and Irene. She did not want to tell this strange young woman about her familiarity with the man who had saved her.

But, her companion was waiting, and she did not seem to be backing down. Sighing, Maria pushed her cup aside and folded her hands on the table.

"The truth is this, Sir Integra," she started, "I… The person I saw kill the gunman… I know him."

As the words left her mouth, Integra's blue eyes widen.

"You knew him previous to this attack?" Her voice was strong and composed, despite the concerned look on her face.

Maria nodded. "I do not _know_ him, Sir, but I meet him before."

"When?"

The brunette recounted the story of how she met the nameless gentleman last Monday night and how he had ensured she got home safely. As she told the anecdote, Maria was reminded that she had yet to tell Father Anderson this, and she tried to ignore the guilt that began to eat away at her.

When she was finished, Integra looked a little calmer, but her thin, fair eyebrows were still pulled together. In fact, she looked a little bit annoyed. Maria did not have long to wonder why, though.

"Well, you should probably know," the woman said, "that the same man who escorted you home that night also works for me."

Maria stared at her. "He… what?"

Integra pulled the cigar out of her mouth and drew herself up in her seat. "We are the Royal Order of Protestant Knights, otherwise known simply by my family name, Hellsing. We are an organization that has existed since the late nineteenth century, and it is our job to protect Queen and Country from supernatural threats."

Maria started. "Super-natural? Forgive me, _signorina,_ but I do not know that word. It means-?"

"It means something out of the ordinary, beyond the natural and mundane. Think back to any stories you heard as a child about monsters and things that go bump in the night- That is what 'supernatural' means," Integra explained, tapping her cigar into a waiting ashtray. "And, Miss Sartori, you need to keep your voice down, or we'll have to change the subject."

The stunned girl glanced around the café, wondering if anyone had overheard her. The three or four customers sitting at their tables had not lifted their heads from either their books or their drinks, and the barista was busy checking her cell phone. No one was interested in their conversation.

Integra continued in a low but firm voice, "The man you saw destroy the gunman in your bedroom is our best agent. He and his servant were sent to your home last Tuesday after we received a distress call from the county police."

Maria nodded, trying her best to understand this information. It was all so overwhelming, and she was unsure if she was following. This woman's organization dealt with otherworldly threats? The premise itself was insane, and Maria had a hard time taking this woman seriously. She was about to say so, but then she remembered how the attacker had turned to dust when her saviour thrust his hand through his chest…

As if she had been reading her thoughts, Integra suddenly murmured, "The murderers who attacked your home last week were vampires."

Maria could not keep herself from gasping. She had been wondering what kind of humans could revel in such butchery and consume the blood of the people they had just killed. Now she knew it was because the beings who had ended her friends' lives were not human at all. What was even more disturbing was the memory of her prince's immense strength, his pallor, the fact that every time he smiled at her last Monday he never showed his teeth…

"And the man…?"

Integra nodded gravely. "Yes. The man who saved your life is a vampire as well."

Maria's breath left her lungs suddenly, as if Integra's words had kicked her in the chest. The world began to spin, and the astonished young woman was worried she was going to fall off her chair.

" _Dio mio_ …" she breathed as she crossed herself.

"I know this must be a lot to take in, Miss Sartori."

"S-so, you tell me now," Maria stammered, "that vampires are real? All the stories, every _fiaba,_ is truth?"

"I'm afraid so."

"And what I saw- the boy who became the dust- I am not ill?"

Integra furrowed her brow again. "What do you mean?"

"I am not sick"- Maria pointed to her temple- "in the head. I am not a _pazzo_? Because I know it is not normal that a person melts into dust. I wondered for a long time, _signorina_ , if vampires are real. As an adult, I thought not, but now you say yes, and-"

"Miss Sartori, please lower your voice," Integra snapped.

Maria flushed and fell silent. She was too distressed to check if she had drawn any unwanted attention to herself, though. She merely sat in her chair, her mind racing. She thought back to the time when she was a child, when she had asked Father Anderson if vampires actually existed. He had told her that it depended on who she asked, and that answer never made sense to her… Until now…

Part of her was horrified to know that she had not been imagining things, and the attackers were, indeed, creatures of the night. Another part of her was intrigued, though. She wanted to know more, why these monsters existed, why they had attacked her home, how many there were still at large-

"In answer to your questions, no, you are not insane," Integra explained when Maria remained silent. "You were not imagining things, and the stories are true: Vampires exist. If they didn't, my family legacy would be found in academia, not the military."

Maria did not understand the reference, and she did not care. She merely continued to sit there in silence, staring at her lap and turning this information over and over in her head. She wanted to go away for a moment and allow these facts, these confirmations of her own thoughts and beliefs, to sink into her mind in total privacy.

But, Integra was not finished with her yet.

"Now," she said, adopting a business-like tone. "As I'm sure you've surmised, we are a secret organization, and we have worked very hard to keep the general population in a state of blissful ignorance about the existence of these monsters. However, you are the survivor of a vampire attack: You saw what the murderers did to your friends, and you saw the way Alucard killed the gunman-"

"What is that?" Maria asked, jerking her head up suddenly.

"Pardon me?"

"Is that what he is called?" Maria asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "The man who saved my life?"

"Alucard? Yes, that's the name he goes by." Integra gave her a perplexed look. "Considering you've run into him before, I thought you'd know."

Maria shook her head. "No, no… I did not have the chance to learn it."

"Well, in any case," Integra continued, trying to keep the conversation on track, "the fact remains that you witnessed a vampire attack, _and_ you saw us working, and have lived to tell the tale." The woman leaned forward, bowing her head towards Maria. "But, we would appreciate it if you did not speak of it, Miss Sartori."

Maria raised her eyebrows. "Hm?"

"No one in the civilian population knows of us," Integra explained. "But since you saw us in action with your own eyes, we are at risk of being exposed. It is unlikely that people will believe you if you told them what happened, but Hellsing is not willing to take the chance."

Maria shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She knew what Integra was about to say next. "Sir Integra, I would never dream of-"

"I don't doubt your sincerity in keeping this a secret, Miss Sartori, but we cannot trust your word alone," Integra cut in. "What can I offer you for your silence? Money is no issue, and Hellsing has connections to more than a few notable people in England. What do you want?"

Maria stared at her, lips parted in disbelief. This was simply too much to handle at the moment. She had just attended her friends' funeral, learned that vampires were real, and now this woman was trying to bribe her? The insult stung Maria like an unexpected bug bite.

"Please, Sir, I am a Catholic woman," she said with a frown. "I will not take your money, and I am upset that you think I would."

Integra glared at her. "This is not a matter of your dignity or your religion, Miss Sartori," she said seriously. "This is a matter of national security. Name your price, and you will be left alone to carry on your good Catholic life. You have my word."

This stubborn Protestant was beginning to anger Maria, but the young woman had a point. Maria had been witness to something that no human should ever have to see, and if she went off telling everyone about it, then Hellsing probably would not be able to maintain the peace they had fought for. There was no escaping this bargain she was about to enter into.

With the offer in front of her, Maria took a moment to consider what she wanted from the Royal Order of Protestant Knights. Father Anderson had always taught her that money was responsible for many a man's downfall, and knowing that Christ had been sold out for a mere handful of coins, Maria was loath to accept a single English pound from Hellsing. She could have used the money, especially since she was on her own now, but it went against everything she believed in.

Still, Integra sat across the table from her, waiting for an answer. Maria looked down into her lap and listened to the sounds around her. The low conversation on the other side of the room seemed to grow louder and louder, the espresso machine seemed to roar, and the slam of the bathroom door resembled the powerful shot of a heavy silver pistol Maria once saw in use. An idea entered her mind, and without thinking too much about it, she raised her head and said, "I want to see your soldier, Sir Integra."

"My soldier? You mean Alucard?"

Maria nodded, her cheeks burning as she realized what she was asking. "Yes, that is my 'price', as you say."

Integra leaned back and scowled. "Well, you can't talk to him now. He's away at the moment, and he probably won't be back until late tomorrow night."

"Then, when he returns, we can talk," Maria insisted. Her breaths became shallow, and her head felt as if it was about to float off her shoulders.

The scowl did not lift from Integra's face as she demanded, "Are you certain you want to do that, Miss Sartori? Alucard is not so different in nature from the creatures that attacked your home."

The Catholic woman swallowed down her nerves. Integra may have been right, but she still found herself saying, "Yes. I have many questions now, and if a… a…" She but her lip and looked away. "If a vampire can answer them, I may find comfort in the truths. If I can see him again, then I will not speak of you to anyone, Sir. This, I promise."

The quiet sounds of the cafe filled the silence. The longer Integra looked at Maria without saying anything, the more uncomfortable Maria became. She tried not to think about how wrong her request was. She wished Integra would speak, before she had the chance to think about this too hard.

"So, is that it, then?" she finally said, a small grin tugging at her mouth. "You want to go on a date with him?"

Maria's mouth fell open, but no words came forth. She could feel her cheeks colour, but she was too flustered to care if Integra saw.

"N-No, not a date," she sputtered. "I-It is a... ah, how do you say _intervista_..."

"Interview?" the Protestant offered helpfully.

" _Si,_ yes! It is an interview I ask for, Sir Integra, not date. Not date at all."

Integra shook her head and gave her a small shrug. Briefly, Maria thought she was about to deny her, but her hopes were lifted when the leader of Hellsing replied, "All right, I'll speak to him when he returns. I can't tell you exactly when that will be, but you'll be notified one way or another."

Maria nodded, too unsettled to say anything. Everything had happened so fast, and now she was unsure of what she had agreed to. Had she really just sat in a cafe with a woman she did not know, discussed the existence of vampires, and then twisted her arm to secure a meeting with one? One which happened to be the reason she was still alive? As if on cue, Maria's conscience began to berate her.

 _You idiot! Do you realize you're going against God? Against Father Anderson? Do you understand the danger you've just put yourself in?_

 _... Yes,_ she thought in reply. _I do._

And as Maria sat there, smiling nervously at Integra, she was astonished to find that she did not care. She might care later, but at that moment, a rush of adrenaline swept through her body, and her mind was swimming with questions she would ask the vampire Alucard.

* * *

 **I'm sorry there wasn't any MariaxAlucard interaction in this chapter. It's just, I don't think it would have made sense for him to be around at the moment, especially while she's dealing with all this crap... She'll need him later on, mind you, but for now, they had to spend some time apart. Anywho, I hope you guys enjoyed it! More on the way :)**


	5. An Interview with the Vampire

**Hi, everyone! So, before we begin, I'd just like to thank those who favourited/followed/read this story so far, and of course, thank you to my reviewers :) GirlWhoLovesFanfiction, your long review made me smile from ear to ear; and, darkangelynn5, you might see a bit of your prediction come true in this chapter! **

**Also, if any of you are interested, or are the types who like to listen to music while you read, I was listening to "Graveyard Picnic" by Voltaire while I wrote the second half of this chapter. The whole atmosphere of that part was influenced by the song, to be honest. Just thought I'd share that with you :P**

 **Anywho, let's begin...**

* * *

The feeble light of dawn was streaming into Integra's office from the large windows behind her desk. It would be daytime in a little less than an hour, but Alucard did not feel the slightest bit tired. He could not tell if he was still coming down from the high of fighting that papist Anderson, or if it was because of the story his master was currently telling him.

"In short," Integra said, leaning her elbows on the desk. "This is what will keep her silent, and I need you to fulfill your part of this deal."

Alucard could not help but to chuckle. "How interesting. It's been a very long time since I've had a date."

"Well, don't say that in front of her," Integra warned him. "She insisted this is an interview, nothing more."

The vampire did not say anything, but he gave his master a smug grin.

"I'm surprised this is what she wanted, though," Integra said. She walked over to the window and gazed out the crystalline pane. "For someone who survived a vampire attack, she seemed to like the idea of meeting one alone." She shook her head. "You appear to have made quite an impression on her, Alucard."

"I suppose I did."

Despite his casual reply, he could not deny that the young woman had taken up quite a bit of his headspace in the past week as well. He had fallen asleep thinking about her the night they met, and as if by prophecy, he had found her again the following night, terrified but alive. He had left for Northern Ireland shortly after the Bonnie and Clyde vampires had been disposed of, but Maria Sartori had followed him there too. Between teaching Seras how to kill ghouls and shooting some himself, he had wondered how the young foreigner had fared in the hospital, whether or not she was deeply traumatized, and if she was going back to Italy or staying in England. Consequently, he wondered how Integra was going to deal with the fact that a civilian was now aware of Hellsing's existence.

Then, Anderson arrived, and he forgot all about Maria until Integra called him into her office a moment ago. Knowing the survivor wanted to see him again made him smile, though he too had to wonder what drove her to strike such a bargain with his master.

"And when was the young lady expecting me?" he asked.

Integra did not turn around as she said, "I've left the decision up to you. But, I expect you to see her soon, because I don't want to leave her time to run about London, talking freely of vampires and Hellsing… If she's going to discuss this with anybody, it is better that she speaks to you. Of course, you are not to tell her any intimate details about Hellsing, though I doubt I have to tell you that."

"Naturally," Alucard conceded. "In that case, I won't delay, my master."

With that promise, he was dismissed. As the vampire strode down the hall, he turned his new mission over in his mind.

It had been a very long time since someone outside of the Hellsing organization had paid this much attention to him. Based on what Integra had said, it was obvious that Maria was fascinated by him, and if he was being perfectly honest with himself, it flattered his ego just a little bit. It was nice to know that a pretty girl had given up a sizeable fortune for another chance to see him in the flesh.

But, what really struck him was the fact that Maria wanted to meet him even though she knew he was a vampire now. It intrigued Alucard, but it also made him a little bit suspicious. He was part of the same race that had murdered her friends in cold blood; why would she risk putting herself in danger? Was she part of some kind of trap? Or, did she really just have a dark interest in monsters?

Whichever it was, Alucard was not worried. If it turned out to be a trick, he knew how to defend himself. If she was just curious, then he got a night off to spend in a young woman's company. He could only win either way.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Maria waited anxiously by gate E2 in Heathrow Airport. The plane from Badrick had just landed, and passengers were slowly trickling out of customs with their luggage. The young woman stood on her tiptoes, peering over a few heads until she saw Father Anderson's hulking figure emerge from the crowd. Tall, blonde, green-eyed, and bespectacled, he looked the same as ever, and Maria was overjoyed to see him.

Not waiting for him to notice her, Maria wound her way through the throng and dashed up to the priest. Anderson turned just in time for the young woman to throw her arms around his neck.

He caught her in a tight hug, squeezing her shoulders as if he did not want to let her go. Maria rested her cheek on his shoulder and scrunched up her face, determined not to dissolve into a sobbing mess in public.

"Hello, Father," she murmured, her voice cracking.

"Hello, my girl." He loosened his arms around her and slowly stepped back. "How have you been feeling?"

Maria dropped her arms and shook her head. "I have so much to tell you. I only hope that you'll forgive me for my part in what has happened recently."

Father Anderson offered her a careful smile and adjusted his backpack- his only piece of luggage- on his shoulder. " _'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness._ '"

Maria knew she should have known that quote, but she could not remember where in the Bible she had seen it. Nonetheless, she knew her guardian was trying to reassure her, and she replied with a humble, "Amen."

"Amen," Anderson repeated. "Shall we go, then? I don't like the idea of you wandering around here by yourself."

A bittersweet smile played at Maria's mouth. She disliked it when the priest made a fuss over the fact that she was travelling alone, but she decided he deserved some slack.

"Yes," she said, turning slowly in the direction of the exit. "Follow me, Father. We'll go back to my apartment."

And the two of them made their way out of Heathrow, Anderson walking closer to Maria than he usually did.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Maria's new apartment was nowhere near as nice as the triplex she had previously inhabited. The tiny flat had a single bedroom, a small kitchen, and a cramped bathroom. There was no sitting room, and Maria had just moved in yesterday with the help of Sister Margaret. When she and Father Anderson stepped into the little kitchen, she apologized profusely for the scattered, empty boxes, and made quick work of throwing them into her bedroom.

As her guardian settled himself into a chair at the table, Maria busied herself by the rusty but functional stove, boiling water for tea and fixing a plate of biscuits. As she worked, she casually asked Anderson how his flight had been.

"It was short," he said, watching her rush back and forth between the refrigerator and the stove.

He could tell she was nervous. Whenever Maria prepared to take confession as a child, she used to meticulously clean her space in the dormitory, or put books on the shelf in alphabetical order, and one memorable time, she had begged the nuns to let her sweep the kitchen. She might have been twenty-four now, but old habits endured, and it made his heart ache to see her so anxious.

Maria settled down with the mugs and biscuits in hand. She pushed the plate towards Anderson but did not take a cookie for herself.

"What's wrong, child?" Anderson asked gently. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're frightened of me."

Maria's heart sunk. "It's not that at all, Father." She looked down into her mug and saw her sad, tired-looking face in the milky brown surface.

"The minute we said hello at the airport, you mentioned forgiveness," Anderson ventured, sipping his drink. "What do I need to forgive you for, Maria? It is certainly not your fault that a couple of monsters attacked your home."

She knew that, but there was so much more, and Maria did not know where to start. Was she going to begin by telling Father Anderson that she had been a coward and couldn't help her friends? Or was she going tell him about her attempt to walk home alone at night first?

"Well…" Maria started hesitantly. "I didn't listen to your advice on the night of the attack. I let Irene open the door, and she…"

The young woman fell silent. She decided to start with the least of her sins to ease into her confession, but dwelling on the memory of Tuesday night brought up memories of yesterday's funeral. The wailing of Irene's mother was so loud that she had to resist the urge to cover her ears.

Suddenly, a large hand covered hers. She looked up and saw Anderson reaching over to her, sincerity shining in his eyes behind his glasses.

"Maria, understand this now," he said. "Nothing you could have done would have prevented what happened. Even if you had barred the door, they probably still would have found a way to get in. What matters is you did the smart thing by hiding yourself before they could get you too."

Maria stared up at him, fighting with herself as he gave her a sympathetic smile. This man was so good to her. In that moment, she knew she had to tell him the worst of everything. She knew she was bound by a confidentiality agreement, but how could she hide anything from her dear Father Anderson?

"Father," she started. "There's something I need to tell you…"

Anderson opened his mouth to reply, but his voice was drowned out by the sudden ringing of the telephone on the counter. The shrill sound made Maria jump, and she nearly spilled her tea.

"Just a moment," she muttered as she rose from the table. She cleared the kitchen in three long strides and picked up the phone before the answering machine could.

"Hello?" she said, switching to English.

"Good evening, _signorina._ "

Maria almost dropped the phone. Her heart leapt into her throat. It was him. She would know that voice anywhere.

"This is…?" she choked out, trailing off as she remembered Father Anderson was right behind her. She bit her lip and leaned heavily against the counter, refusing to turn around.

Her prince- whose name had fled her mind at the moment- laughed softly. "I think you know very well who this is."

Maria moved her mouth, but no words came out. She could feel Anderson's eyes on her back, but despite her attempts to act natural, she found herself failing miserably.

"I-I did not expect you to…" She trailed off as another question leapt to mind. " _Aspetta, come_ \- I mean, ah, how did you…"

"Find your phone number?"

"Yes!"

"I know how to use a phone book, you know."

Maria's cheeks burned. What a stupid question to ask. Anyone with half a brain could look her number up in a public directory. There again, she had only just moved into her new apartment yesterday, and she wasn't a permanent resident…

"My master informed me of the bargain you struck with her," the vampire continued. "Very interesting, indeed…"

Now Maria could feel her whole face flush. Why did she feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat?

"I have to ask, though," he said. "Are you certain this is what you want? My master can grant you almost anything your heart desires, and yet you chose me. It isn't something many people would ask for."

At these words, the panic in Maria's heart fled, only to be replaced by a strange mixture of disappointment and defensiveness. "Why do you ask this?" she demanded. "Do you not want to see me?"

He laughed again, loudly this time, almost sinisterly. It sent shivers running through Maria's body, thrilling and scaring her.

"I guess I have my answer, then," he concluded. "Well, why must we wait? Come to the western gates of Saint Andrew the First-Called. I'll be waiting for you."

His words sent her head reeling. The Church of Saint Andrew the First-Called was an Orthodox church on the outskirts of Westminster. She knew the place, but she had to ask-

"Now? But I-I am not ready."

"Maria," Anderson said from behind her. "What's going on?"

She whipped around and saw the priest staring at her, a scowl playing across his stubbly face. She gazed back at him, trying not to think about how she almost sold out her prince seconds before he called. Anderson could not know. He _must_ not know. She would beg God's forgiveness later.

"Then I'll allow you an hour to ready yourself," the vampire conceded. "I pray you won't abandon me here, though… Maria."

Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. She had forgotten that she had given him her name. The way he murmured it with a slight purr made her knees weak. To cover the reaction, she leaned back against the counter and tried to casually stretch out one leg. She did not meet Anderson's suspicious gaze.

"All right," she said after a beat. "I will come in an hour. You have my promise."

She could just imagine him grinning on the other end of the line. "Excellent. Until then, _signorina_."

And the line went dead.

Maria slowly placed the phone back on its hook. When she looked up, she saw Anderson was still scowling at her.

"What was that about?" he asked in a low voice.

Maria's mind went into overdrive. She forgot about her confession, her sense of Christian duty, her resolve not to lie to Father Anderson. God was far away at the moment, and all she could think to herself was that her guardian could not know what she was about to do.

"That was the orphanage," she blurted out.

"Really?" He cocked an eyebrow.

Maria nodded, fighting to keep her face neutral. She had once read that liars never looked at the people they were lying to, so she gazed directly into her guardian's eyes. "That was my friend- the one who covered my shift so I could come meet you at Heathrow. She wants me to go meet her."

Anderson's frown deepened. "But it's eight o' clock at night, Maria."

The young woman glanced at the digital clock on the counter, trying to buy herself some time. She needed to think of a reason why her 'friend' would need to meet her at the orphanage. The clock changed to eight-oh-one. How long had she been silent for? She racked her brains, trying desperately to think of something to say until she spied the bargain bin packet of "Happy Birthday" napkins she had left on top of the microwave.

"One of the children is having a birthday tomorrow," she explained slowly, turning back to the priest. "They were supposed to decorate the cafeteria tonight- as a surprise in the morning for him- but one of the girls fell sick, and they want me to go help them now."

Maria was too scared to feel shocked at herself, but she had to wonder if some devil had slipped into her mouth and taken a hold of her tongue. She had fibbed here and there throughout her life, but she never told a lie of this size, especially not to Father Anderson. The worst part was, he looked as if he did not believe a word she was saying. He pushed the plate of biscuits aside and rose from the table, his eyes still fastened on her slouched form.

"Maria," he said sternly, "I've never heard a person stutter as much as you did on the phone just now. What are you hiding?"

A thought entered her mind, and it was so awful that Maria almost discarded the idea immediately. But, she knew that if she told Anderson the truth, he might get very angry, and she would certainly not be able to see her prince again. She looked at her feet as an uncanny calm settled in her heart.

"I'm sorry, Father," she murmured. "There's nothing I am hiding from you. It's just…" Her eyes began to sting with tears that were not completely fake. "I get nervous sometimes when the phone rings, or someone I don't recognize immediately talks to me… It's silly, I know, because the murderers are dead, but…"

It was half true. She had been starting at the slightest noises that week, and before she went to bed each night, she wedged a chair under her front door after locking it, despite living in a safe neighbourhood. She had been living in a state of near-constant anxiety, and that's exactly why she needed to meet the vampire: A conversation with him would ease her fears and help her get on with her life. Father Anderson wouldn't understand if she explained this; she _had_ to lie.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Maria was both relieved and guilt-ridden when she saw the priest's face soften. He closed his eyes and clapped her on the shoulder, heaving a sigh as he did.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I understand. I know you'd never lie to me, anyway. Right?"

"Right," the devil made Maria say.

Anderson turned back to the table and picked up his mug, but he did not sit down. Instead, he leaned on the table across from Maria and sipped his drink. "Go get yourself ready," he said, flicking a glance at her faded jogging pants and mismatched socks. "I'll accompany you to the underground once you're dressed."

Maria smiled at him sheepishly. "I'm so sorry. I know we've only spent a little time together…"

"Not to worry," Anderson told her, though Maria noticed a small gleam of disappointment in his eyes.

"Do you want to come over for supper tomorrow?" Maria offered, trying to fight off the horrible feeling that she was betraying him.

"That sounds lovely." He took another gulp of tea and waved her away. "Now, go get dressed. _'Children are a heritage from the Lord,'_ after all, and you mustn't keep your colleagues waiting."

Maria nodded and hurried down the narrow corridor at his prompting. In a second, she was isolated safely in her room, with nothing but an unmade twin bed and an open suitcase waiting for her. She leaned against the door and placed a hand over her chest, where her heart hammered to break her bones.

She didn't have long to wallow in her own self-administered guilt, though. She had an interview to prepare for.

Maria dove for her suitcase and frantically rifled through her clothes. She tossed aside her long skirts, and her turtle necks, and her wrinkled blouses. If Father Anderson was going to believe she was visiting Saint Nicholas' for a late night decorating session, she could not dress too formally. Still, she did not want to appear too frumpy to the vampire.

 _Alucard,_ she thought suddenly. Maria stopped digging through her suitcase and held the name she had suddenly remembered in mind. It was such a strange name, but there was something nice, something darkly mysterious about the sound of it… _Don't forget, he's called Alucard…_

As Maria committed her prince's name to memory, she spied a pair of light blue, stone-washed jeans splayed on her simple off-white bed spread. Those pants had ended up in her repertoire of dresses and long skirts because Irene and Katie had convinced her to buy them during a small shopping trip. Maria had purchased them hastily, barely keeping them on her body long enough to decide if they were a good fit, and she had not worn the garment since.

But, perhaps she would look casual but chic in them. It would be a change from her skirts, anyway.

Maria slipped out of her jogging pants and thrust her foot into the right leg of the jeans. To her horror, she had to suck in her belly to zip and button up the jeans. When she looked down at her body, she saw that her stomach sagged over the waistband. Scoffing in disgust, she wriggled out of the article and tossed it in the corner. Now she remembered why she never wore jeans!

After some more digging, Maria finally settled on a blue and green floral dress. It was much easier to fit into, but her quivering fingers made buttoning the bodice a chore.

When she was dressed, Maria swept into the bathroom down the hallway and nearly started at what she saw in the mirror: She was pale, her green eyes ringed with ugly, purple bags, and her hair was falling out of her ponytail. She undid the elastic and ran a comb through her hair before wondering what to do about her face.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice reminded her that she was meeting a vampire; she did not have to impress anyone, and he was in no position to judge a girl on her pallor. Still, the small bag makeup bag she had in her medicine cabinet called to her. Before she could think about it too long, she retrieved the little bag, ran back to her room, and threw it in her purse.

When she stepped back into the kitchen, Father Anderson had finished his tea, and half the biscuits were gone. He gave her a small smile when she approached him.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," she said softly. "Father, I truly am sorry that-"

"I told you not to worry, Maria," he interrupted. "Let's get going. I don't mind hanging on until tomorrow to see you."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The sun had completely sunk below the horizon, and a full moon smiled down upon the city of Westminster. The Church of Saint Andrew the First-Called loomed against the starry sky, striking an imposing figure in the night. From his place by the western gate of the church's land, Alucard watched Maria Sartori make her way towards him.

Normally, he wouldn't make himself so visible to someone who knew who he was, or what he did. If she were anybody else, he would hide in the shadows, watch them as they looked around apprehensively, and emerge from the darkness when they least expected it to revel in their fear.

But, he did not want to scare her. The girl had been through enough, and he could practically hear her heartbeat from ten feet away. She was nervous, and the last thing he wanted to do was make this an unpleasant experience for her. Instead, he stood in the middle of the sidewalk, watching as the warm summer breeze played with the hem of her dress, her brown hair bouncing against her shoulders, and her large, green eyes lighting up with a sort of thrilling intrigue when she saw him. Alucard allowed himself a small smile. When she wasn't bleeding or traumatized, she was quite an alluring creature.

As she neared him, she offered him a crooked smile- another indication that she was on edge. "Hello, _Signor_."

His smile broadened. "The prefix is unnecessary," he told her. "You may call me Alucard."

She gave him a nod and extended her hand for a handshake. "I thank you kindly for doing this."

Alucard curled his fingers around her hand and turned it around. Without taking his eyes off of her, he breathed a kiss on the back of her hand, just as he did on the night they met. He saw Maria's eyes widen, and he could not help feeling a rush from her reaction. He had nearly forgotten how fun it was to charm a young woman.

"I'm glad you made it," he murmured. "I was worried you were going to stand me up."

Maria's smile disappeared, and she caught her lower lip between her teeth as she shook her head. "No, no, I would not do that, _Sign_ \- I mean, ah, A-Alucard…" She sucked in a breath through her nose, a sound that might not be picked up by human ears, but one that he could hear quite clearly. "Someone was visiting, and the call on the telephone startled me."

Alucard made a small "hmph" sound and let go of her hand. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It is all right. It is… How do you say... No hurt done?"

"Harm," he corrected her gently.

" _Si!_ It is no harm done."

She may not have mastered the English language yet, but she was trying, and Alucard found it endearing. He sincerely hoped that she was not part of a trap, since her company was so amusing thus far.

"Well then," he started, "shall we go find some place to sit down? I'm sure you don't want to talk to me in the middle of the walkway like this."

She nodded and glanced around. "So, where do we go?"

Alucard threw a look at the wrought iron gates, where a good-sized churchyard sprawled, hidden in the trees and the shadow of the church. "I know a quaint little pub down by Somerset House, though I've heard that Catholic ladies have an aversion to alcohol."

He turned and bowed his head towards her slightly. "Or, I could show you how the city lights reflect off the Thames at this time. The only catch is, we'd have to cut through the graveyard to get there in a reasonable amount of time. The choice is yours, of course. What would you like to do?"

When her eyes flashed at the mention of the cemetery, he knew immediately which option she was going to choose. Still, he waited patiently for her answer. Going through the cemetery was actually the long way to the river, but Maria would not know that. Alucard was testing her resolve. He wanted to know how far she was willing to go into the darkness, into the realm of the unknown.

Maria glanced at the towering gates after a moment. "Is the graveyard not locked at night?"

Alucard turned away from her before she could see his grin break into a full, toothy smile. Normally, the gates would be sealed once the moon rose to replace the sun, but Alucard unlocked the doors from the inside before Maria arrived. With only the headstones to witness his actions, he had turned into mist and slipped into the keyhole, turned the gears exactly right, and only reappeared on the sidewalk again when he heard that satisfying click.

But, Maria did not have to know that. Instead, Alucard grasped a bar and gave the gate a little push. The door creaked open, as if to welcome the two visitors into the home of the dead. Alucard threw her a look of mock surprise.

"It appears they don't," he answered. With his free hand, he ushered her in. "After you, Maria."

She drew in a shuddering breath as she slowly stepped in. Alucard could tell that she was not shivering because she was uncomfortable, though. She had not looked at him as she passed by, but he still saw the gleam of awe in her eyes, the ghost of a smile that played over her lips. Maria wasn't frightened; she was thrilled.

Alucard shut the gate and turned to see her standing in the middle of the path. Her eyes roamed far, taking in the expanse of the churchyard, but her stillness gave him the impression that she didn't want to venture any further without him. He left the gate and moved up beside her, extending his arm as she turned her head.

"Shall we?" he said.

Maria nodded and slipped her arm through his, grinning sheepishly. As she turned her head away, Alucard saw a faint, pink blush bloom over her cheeks. Deciding not to embarrass her, he kept silent about it and led her down the path towards the headstones.

They walked in silence for a little while, weaving in and out of the graves and angel sculptures that crowded the cemetery. Alucard inclined his face to the sky, basking in the moonlight, as Maria looked at the headstones. Whenever the wind picked up and rustled the leaves in trees, he could feel her grip on his arm tighten. Although she was enthralled by her surroundings, her nerves had not completely left her yet.

"There's nothing to be scared of," he told her gently. "Nothing can hurt you; everyone here is dead… Including myself."

Maria glanced up at him. "And yet, you walk, and you talk… And you are very strong."

"Un-life and immense strength are just two of the characteristics of a vampire."

He felt her tense at the last word. He tore his eyes away from the moon and laid his gaze down upon her face. The moonlight made her skin glow with an otherworldly pallor, despite her olive complexion, and her eyes danced with countless questions.

"Tell me," she murmured, "what it is like to be a v-vampire?"

Alucard chuckled. "Is the interview starting already?"

The colour on her cheeks deepened, but she did not look away from him this time. "I must know... I-I am so interested. I know that vampires are real now, and to me, it is like a story book that is life... What is it like?"

They walked in silence for a moment as Alucard contemplated the ridiculously broad question. "You're going to have to be more specific than that. An existence as a vampire is just as complex as life as a human."

They passed under a towering sycamore. When an owl hooted at them from a low-hanging branch, Maria jumped and clung to his arm. He waited patiently, hiding his smirk as she recovered herself.

"I want to know," she said after a pause. "Do you... drink the blood of humans?"

"Of course," Alucard answered. "I wouldn't be a vampire if I didn't."

"But I am told you kill vampires. Why? Are you not like the monsters that attacked my home?" Maria pressed, sounding a little too anxious for Alucard's liking. He glanced down at her and saw that she was chewing on her bottom lip again. How could he blame her? She was not experienced with vampires or Hellsing in general, and she would not know how nuanced his role was.

"I serve Sir Integra, whom you met," he explained, leading her out of the shadow of the sycamore. "By her orders, I kill the vampires that cause trouble in England... Don't believe all the stories you've heard, _signorina._ You cling to a monster in the shadows of a graveyard, it's true; but, not all of us are uncontrollable." He gave her a playful grin and added, "You don't have to worry; I have no interest in tasting your blood right now."

She drew in a quivering breath. "Then, if you work to keep the people safe, then how do you..."

"Feed?"

"Yes..."

He patted the back of her hand, trying to reassure her. "My master sees to my most basic needs. And, she does so in the most humane and Christian of ways, I assure you."

That answered seemed to have calmed Maria. Her oval face lost a bit of the tension that had been building up, and her shoulders lowered an inch or two. Alucard could sense a new question on the horizon.

"And, how does a person become a vampire?"

Alucard kept his eyes on the path ahead of them, hesitating. Based on what Integra had told him, Maria sounded like a very traditional girl, and he wanted to choose his words carefully. It would be fun to tease her a little, but he did not want to completely put her off.

"When a person is bitten by a vampire, they turn into witless, bloodthirsty monsters that are known as ghouls."

He could see her watching him intently out of the corner of his eye as they walked. "However, real vampires are created when a virgin of the sex opposite the monster is bitten."

Just as he expected, a look of surprised embarrassment skittered across her face, and she immediately looked away from him. "Oh... I see... How strange..."

They continued down the path, Alucard remaining silent to let that information sink into her mind. He looked ahead and saw that the little road dipped low into a small, valley-like area. He could already hear the waters of the Thames lapping at the shore from miles away. They were almost there.

"Then, how did you become a vampire?" Maria blurted suddenly. "If you do not mind my asking… It was how long ago?"

Alucard clenched his jaw. If her first question was too broad, then this one was too specific. How was he going to explain to her that he was the exception to the rule when he did not completely understand it himself? How could he overcome his aversion to the past to even begin that story?

"That answer is much too long and boring for a night like this," he muttered finally. Glancing at her, he said, "I bet your life story is much shorter and interesting than mine."

"Me? Oh, well… My life is not so interesting."

"I doubt that," Alucard replied, guiding her around a crack in the asphalt. They did not need a repeat of their first meeting. "Where did you grow up?"

She was supposed to be asking the questions, but Alucard decided he was not going to give answers with nothing in return. He was just as curious about the young lady who wanted to meet him as she was of him.

"I live in Rome for my whole life," she said. "I came here to volunteer and practice my English."

"How long are you staying in London for?"

"The whole summer."

Alucard carefully ventured, "I'm surprised you're staying. After an experience like you had, most people would go home immediately."

Maria laughed quietly, a sad little sound, and shrugged her shoulders. "I made a promise to stay. The company I travel with insist I do three months of the work in exchange for a reduced airplane fare, you see. _Comunque_ ," she continued, "Saint Nicholas' needs me."

"And your family isn't worried?"

She shook her head. "I have none. As a child, I was living in an orphanage."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Alucard said.

Maria pushed a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear, staring off into the distance. "Well, it is not bad, very… The people at the orphanage are my family. Besides, I never knew my parents. It does not make me so sad."

The young woman and the vampire reached the bottom of the hill, where the east gate of the cemetery ran alongside a strip of greenery, which lay just in front of the bank of the Thames. The city lights danced off the water, giving the impression of a fairy ball, hidden in plain sight. Maria gasped softly when the river came into view.

" _Che bello_."

When they reached the gates, Maria frowned deeply when she discovered the door was locked, but Alucard did not fret. He knew the gates would be fastened, and there was only one way to get out onto the green space by the bank.

"We can jump the fence," he suggested, looking up at the towering wrought iron.

"What?" Maria followed his gaze and shook her head. "But look at the height. It is too-"

Without a word, Alucard cut her off by wrapping an arm around her waist and leaping into the air with hardly any effort. They landed gently on the grass, and he slowly set her down on her feet. She gaped up at him, shocked into silence for a moment. Alucard held her by the elbows to make sure she did not fall when he let go.

"Can all vampires do that?" she asked once she caught her breath.

Alucard gave her a little nod. "As I said before, vampires are stronger than humans. Even my new servant can hold a canon without tiring."

"Really?" Maria asked, her face lighting up suddenly. "Can you fly, also?"

"No. And frankly, I wouldn't want to have that ability."

"Why?"

"It's rather useless for the work I do."

"Oh…"

They walked along the bank, making their way through the dewy grass, the Thames on one side and the cemetery on the other. Linked arm in arm, Alucard did his best to answer any question Maria asked him. He told her what it was like to exist without a heartbeat, how controlling bloodlust became easier with time, and even what blood tasted like. He dispelled age-old myths for her, confirming that, yes, vampires were affected by silver, but not by garlic or crosses. The more he told her about his kind, the more she appeared at ease. Gradually, her body grew less tense, and her stutter disappeared. Whether it was because she was gaining knowledge, getting used to him, or a mix of the two was a mystery to Alucard, but he was pleased to see her relax nonetheless.

Eventually, they fell upon a small, winding path that led from the riverbank into the little wooded area that surrounded the church. A small bench sat on the side of the road, offering them a perfect view of the Thames. Maria and Alucard happily obliged, settling down in front of the colourful water to continue their discussion. She had just told him a story about how she would pretend to be a vampire as a child, which made Alucard shake his head.

"That's awfully morbid," he said. "It isn't something I would except from a little girl."

Maria opened her mouth, but thought better of her reply and fell silent for a moment. Eventually, she shook her head and said, "You are not the only person to think that. I got into trouble for it one night, and I never pretended again."

In the water's reflection, a hint of sadness played across her face. Alucard watched her gaze out to the river, as if lost in her own memories for a moment. He waited for her to say something, but when he noticed the troubled scowl settling over her face, his smile disappeared.

"What's the matter?"

She shook her head and sighed. "I am sorry. I do not intend to be so quiet…" She glanced at him, her eyes wide and glassy. "I am thinking about that night. It is strange, but things such as that, it is something you do not forget. It... It creates certain beliefs in a person."

"What do you mean?" Alucard asked, furrowing his brow.

"That night, I was taught that vampires are evil," she explained, her voice quiet and breathy. The young woman glanced back out at the river and inhaled deeply. "But I feel that is not the truth now. How can it be the truth when the reason I live is because of a vampire? I feel that I have been told a lie for a long time, Alucard."

The wind skipped by them and created ripples on the water. Alucard watched her hair dance in the breeze, fighting the urge to tuck the flyaway strands behind her ear. This is what he had been wanting to hear all night. He wanted to know why she was attracted to the darkness, why she alternated between genuine fright and a dark fascination with him, and what exactly made her tick. He was glad he had coaxed that thought out of her, but her words also did not completely sit well with him.

"Maria…"

When she did not turn, he slowly lifted a hand and cupped her chin. He turned her face back towards him, pleased to see that she had been surprised out of her reverie but had no intention of pulling away.

"I told you before that vampires are not completely uncontrollable," he said, "but that doesn't mean that they aren't dangerous either. You can't ascribe the labels 'good' and 'evil' to vampires because, at the end of the day, a monster is still a monster. Assuming one is entirely good is a mistake, one that could get you killed if you're not careful. Never assume anything is as black and white as all that."

Dozens of questions gleamed in her eyes, and he was sure she was searching his face for answers. Her lips parted, almost giving voice to her queries, but no words came forth. Alucard withdrew his hand but held her gaze. He didn't prompt her, and he didn't want to. Right now, he wanted to sit there in a comfortable silence on the water with her. All of this talk of good and bad reminded him a little too much of work. At that moment, he wanted to forget the recent slew of vampire attacks and remember what it was like to spend time with a charming young lady, who didn't yet fully comprehend the evil of the world.

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 **And that's a wrap (for now)! Thanks so much for reading, guys! The next chapter is on its way...**


	6. A Passage into Night

**Hey all! Thanks for hanging on and being patient- This chapter was a little tougher to write, but I do love a challenge :) And, as always, thanks to you people for favoriting, following, and even just reading this story! And thank you, darkangelynn5, wolf-akuma, jwadd2, VampireDA3, and Midnightisolde for your reviews. They really encourage me and help me determine whether I'm on track or not :P Now, then, where were we...**

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The sudden ring of a telephone jostled Maria awake. Gasping, she sat up in her bed, her heart battering against her chest. She looked around momentarily, taking in her surroundings. This was her room, with her dresser, and her clothes strewn everywhere. She could not remember going to bed last night, though…

Another shrill ring filled the little flat. Maria leapt off her mattress and raced into the kitchen, catching the phone on its third and final ring.

"Hello?" she said, trying to catch her breath.

"Good morning, Maria."

It was Father Anderson. Maria gulped and laid her hand on her chest.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Fine. How was decorating last night?"

She blinked. "Decorating? What do you mean?"

"… Isn't that why you left yesterday? To decorate the orphanage for the little boy's birthday?"

Maria's stomach twisted violently, as if she just fell down the stairs. She had completely forgotten about the lie she told Father Anderson last night. She was glad he was not around to see her jaw drop.

"Oh! Yes, it was… fun." She sighed, her heart growing heavy. "I'm sorry, Father, I just woke up, and my mind is not all here right now."

"You just woke up?" Anderson repeated. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for Mass? I wasn't even sure that I'd reach you this morning."

Furrowing her brow, Maria glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was nine thirty. Mass was in half an hour. She still had enough time to make it to the orphanage, but she was usually leaving by now. Throwing her head back, she screwed her eyes shut and silently cursed herself for not setting her alarm clock last night.

"I have some bad news," Anderson was saying. "I won't be able to come for supper tonight; I need to go back to Rome."

"What?" Maria said. "Why?"

"There was a little bit of a problem up in Northern Ireland, and I need to go back to discuss it with the Vatican," he explained. "I'm sorry this is so last minute, Maria, but I really do have to report back to Maxwell. It's for the children."

"What... Who?" Maria asked, rubbing her temples.

"Enrico Maxwell? You were raised in the orphanage together?" Anderson said, beginning to sound impatient. "Did you leave your memory in bed this morning, child?"

While he was talking, something clicked, and Maria seemed to have recovered her long-term memory. Now she remembered.

Enrico Maxwell was about five years older than her, and she had never really liked him. From what she remembered, he had been bullied relentlessly by the other orphans, and he grew up to be a callous young man with a superiority complex. The last she heard of him was that he had left to complete his clerical training at the Vatican. He had not been missed at the orphanage.

"Yes, sorry, I remember now," she muttered.

"And I'm sorry I'm leaving so suddenly," Anderson said. "But I'll try my best to come back for another visit."

"It's all right, Father," Maria assured him. "I don't want you spending all your money just to visit me."

"I know, but I want to make sure you're all right."

Maria could not help but smile. "I'll be fine."

"I'll visit again soon," Anderson promised. "Now, I need to get to the airport, and you should be leaving for Mass. Don't you be late on the Lord's Day, now."

Maria glanced at the clock again. Nine thirty-five. She now had twenty-five minutes to get ready and reach the orphanage before the opening hymn.

"Yes, Father. Have a good trip back- I'll see you soon!" And with that, she hung up.

As pressed as she was for time, Maria found herself standing in the middle of her kitchen, unable to move. She was lost in her thoughts, trying to sort out the strange mixture of anxiety, guilt, and exhilaration running through her veins. She was disappointed yet relieved at the same time that Anderson was unable to see her today. She felt bad enough for leaving him so suddenly last night, but she was not sure if she was able to face him again so soon after she told him a bold-faced lie.

Eventually, Maria made herself move back into her bedroom and started to dress, though her mind was still in a bit of a haze. She was thinking about what happened last night, after Anderson dropped her off at the tube station.

She had met the vampire Alucard outside the cemetery of an old Orthodox church. She had walked through the graves, her arm wrapped around his, and she asked him what it was like to be a monster. They had sat down by the Thames and he told her never to judge a vampire with the good-evil dichotomy she had been raised to respect. She could not help but wonder what that said about him, and if she should be more afraid of him.

She asked herself this question over and over again as she brushed her hair and teeth. Alucard had been kind, patient, conversational, and even charming last night. Was he really the same entity that had impaled the gunman with his bare hand a mere week ago?

When Maria reached the tube station and descended the stairs to the platform, she suddenly remembered how last night had ended: She was sitting by the water with Alucard, talking about travelling to England, when she began to yawn. He noticed her fatigue and offered to take her back to the underground, an invitation she accepted.

They walked back through the quiet cemetery and left through the western gate, properly that time. He escorted her to the corner of the street, where the London tube sign shone in all its neon glory, and there he bade her goodbye.

"I had a nice evening," he had said to her, his voice low and sensual. "Your company was most pleasurable."

Maria remembered she could barely breathe as she stood there before him, her gaze locked with his, as he gave her hand a gentle parting squeeze. She had had so many more things to say to him, so many more questions to ask, but she could not think of any of them at that moment. All she could manage was, "I thank you kindly... This... This night was exactly how I wished for it."

He had given her a smile, flashing his fangs at her for the first time since they met. "Then, the bargain has been kept." With a little bow towards her, he murmured, "Goodnight, Maria. As always, keep yourself safe."

And with those parting words, he had turned and left Maria standing on the corner to watch him disappear into the night. Maria remembered how she had to rub her eyes, wondering if she had really just seen him fade into the darkness, or if her imagination was playing tricks on her.

On the way back to her flat, she had battled a strange, empty feeling that began to eat away at her. As soon as he left, she had suddenly remembered the questions she wanted to ask him. What was most disturbing, though, was the fact that she may never see him again. Maria did not want to acknowledge how upset that made her, but the feeling was hard to ignore.

The underground screeched to a halt, and Maria was shocked out of her reverie. Shaking her head, she glanced out the window and saw that she was at her stop. She leapt up from her seat and hurried out the door, forgetting her night with Alucard for a moment. It was nearly ten o' clock, and she was about to miss the beginning of Mass.

Once at the orphanage, she hurried into the entrance hall and dashed down the corridor, rounded a corner, and sped down another landing until she reached an elegant, stained glass door. The orphanage's modest-sized chapel was within, and she could hear the choir singing hymns from outside. She almost did not want to go in, but she did not want to miss the entire thing either. She would just have to apologize to Mr. Blackwell later.

Holding her breath, she slowly pulled the door open. The door creaked a little, and as she stepped into the brightly lit, incense-laden church. A few of the children in the back pews turned and looked at her. They giggled as she shut the door and tried to discreetly find a place to sit down. She ended up settling next to a couple of nine year olds who were already bored and beginning to poke each other.

After gently chiding the children, Maria glanced up at the altar and watched the priest, Father Lowe, opening the heavy, leather-bound bible to a bookmarked page. He hadn't seen her slip in.

Next, Maria searched the front of the small church for a sign of Mr. Blackwell. She saw a handful of nuns with their dark veils and flowing habits at the front, but the director's dark, egg-shaped head was nowhere to be seen. Maria found his absence most disturbing. He had been gone for nearly a week, and he never seemed to be available when she needed him. What on earth could be keeping him so long from Saint Nicholas'?

Her mind was scattered and her heart was uneasy, but Maria tried to calm her thoughts. No matter what she had done recently, or where her mentors were, or why she was late, she was in the Lord's house now, and she had to abandon any negativity to receive His grace. Drawing in a deep breath, Maria pushed all thoughts of Father Anderson, Mr. Blackwell, and Alucard from her mind, and paid attention as Father Lowe began Mass.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The weather was miserable that day. The rain began at noon, and it was still falling by the time Maria left the orphanage at eight o'clock. When she stepped out of the building, she was greeted by a sheet of rain pouring from the overhang and a murky grey sky that threatened to dump more of its contents onto London. Maria let out an exasperated sigh when she discovered she had forgotten her umbrella at home. She was so used to the warm, sunny days in Rome that she had left her flat without it.

Bracing herself, the girl dashed out into the storm, pulling the back of her sweater up over her head. The tube station was only a block away, but she couldn't go home yet; she had to buy groceries for the week first. Shivering as water trickled down her back, she turned down a quieter street and hurried down the walkway.

The narrow road was practically abandoned, and water poured from the gutters of the apartment complexes around her. Maria wondered whether the locals would notice if she got swept away by a tide of rain water. She glanced up at the dark, churning clouds and grimaced. Thankfully, the supermarket was just around the corner.

"Hey!"

Maria furrowed her brow as she made her way through the road. What fool was still outside in weather like this?

"Hey, you!"

She stepped through a puddle and cringed as dirty water leaked into her shoes. Perhaps he was trying to find a friend.

"Jesus Christ, bitch, I'm talking to you!"

Maria came to an abrupt halt and spun around, only start violently at who she saw behind her.

Making his way towards her was perhaps the most unusual-looking person she had ever laid eyes on. He was tall, dark, and slim, dressed in what looked to her like a track suit and a tuque with an eye design on it. But, what frightened her most about this stranger's appearance was his face. His thin nose, lips, and bony cheeks were pierced with golden rings, the same colour as his unsettling eyes.

"You... speak to me?" she stammered, her mouth going dry.

"Looks like it, huh? Unless you see anyone else on this goddamn street," he replied in a condescending tone.

She opened her mouth but did not have a reply ready. He drew closer to her, grinning wolfishly as he continued, "What the hell are you doing out here without a raincoat? You're soaking right through that flimsy shirt."

His eyes went to her chest, and she felt herself flare up. A heady rush of adrenaline shot through her body, and she turned on her heels and began to march away. He was in front of her almost instantly, causing her to cry out in surprise. She had not even heard him move.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he demanded, his malicious smile growing a little wider. "Didn't-a Mama tell you it was a-rude to ignore people?"

Maria stared at him incredulously. She had been in England for a little more than a month, but no one she encountered had ever spoken to her so rudely, let alone made fun of her accent. She glared at him and managed to spit out, "I have chores to do. Goodbye."

"Whoa, hang on a sec," the stranger said, holding his hands up. "Can't a dude talk up a chick anymore without getting his balls busted?"

She did not understand the expression, but she did not have to be a native English speaker to know what he was asking.

"I am late," she snapped, pivoting to walk around him.

Suddenly, his hand shot out of nowhere and seized a hold of her wrist. Maria jerked to a halt and whipped her head back around to look at him, only to be met with an angry glare.

"Like fuck you are," he muttered.

Maria let out a shriek and pulled with all her might, but his vice-like grip would not loosen. She balled up her free hand and slammed her fist down repeatedly on his wrist.

"Let go! _Get off!_ _Lasciami stare!_ "

When he held fast, her panic grew until she could barely see straight. Desperate, she raised her fist and aimed for his face.

Her knuckles never connected with his head, though. The frightening stranger caught her hand and forced it into his other palm, pressing her wrists against each other painfully. Before she could move again, he clapped his free hand over her face, blocking her mouth and nose with his palm.

"Man, loud bitches like you really irritate the fuck out of me," the man muttered.

His teeth were bared in a full, grotesque smile now, and Maria finally noticed how long and sharp they were. Coupled with his uncanny speed and painful hold on her, there was one word that floated in front of Maria's eyes as she stared up at him.

 _Vampire!_

Maria struggled against him, trying to kick at his shins and groin, but it was no use. Her body was starved of oxygen, and she was growing weaker by the second. He was suffocating her. He was going to kill her on the deserted road, and she was too scared to even think about her final confession and anointment this time.

Before long, Maria's vision began to tunnel. The darkness closed in around her, and she barely felt him lift his gloved hand off her face. As she fell to wet road, she could have sworn she heard him chuckling, but she did not even have enough time to register that before everything went black.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"I simply cannot believe you'd be this foolish."

"Chill out, bro. I can just take her back if you're so butthurt about it."

"No, you can't, Jan. This isn't a game where you can just restart at the push of a button. You acted too early!"

The bickering voices floated into Maria's ear as she lay on her side, staring at the dark abyss behind her eyelids. She drew in a deep breath, only to cough it out. As she regained consciousness, the blood in her temples pounded, and the surface on which she lay seemed to grow harder and more uncomfortable.

"What do you suppose we're going to do with her when we get to the estate?" a distantly familiar voice demanded.

"Hell, I figured we'd just lock her in the luggage hold until we're done!" replied another accented voice.

"Are you insane? She'd suffocate before long, and he would crucify us. It's bad enough you almost smothered her to death; we're not locking her in the bus."

Maria's hair was in her face. When she tried to raise her hand to brush it away, she discovered that she could not move her wrist. She lifted her heavy eyelids to see that she was lying on asphalt, and her wrists were bound together by a plastic cable tie. It did not take her long to realize that her ankles were tied as well. With more effort than it warranted, she lifted her head and looked around.

Night had fallen hours ago, and she was lying on her side in a deserted carpark. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the hum of a motorway, but otherwise the area was almost silent. As her stomach knotted painfully, she rolled over onto her back and tried in vain to sit up. Still, she saw that she was resting some feet away from two massive tour buses with tinted windows. At the head of the first bus were two figures who she could not quite make out.

"Whatever, man, I fucked that part up, but we're still going to the Hellsing manor, aren't we? I'm ready to kill some bitches!"

Maria's heart nearly stopped when she heard that. "…Hellsing?"

Her head throbbed with each movement, so she lay it back down on the asphalt and stared up into the star-less sky. The arguing men must have heard her, though, because it was not long before she heard someone pattering towards her. She tried to squirm away but stopped when she recognized the face that loomed over her: Blonde, pale, green-eyed, dressed in white...

"Oh, you're awake," Luke Valentine muttered, sounding as if her consciousness offended him slightly. "I was hoping you'd stay out for longer."

Maria gaped at him as every hair on her body stood on end. She had nearly forgotten about this man, and now that she was face to face with him, bound and unable to protect herself, she could not ignore the heavy feeling of dread that washed over her.

"You'll have to pardon me for this… less than ideal reunion," he continued, glancing over his shoulder. "My brother's not schooled in the art of delicacy or timing."

"Seriously, bro, now you're just being an asshole," the second man shouted from some way away. Maria finally recognized that voice as belonging to the man who had grabbed her in the street. She felt her insides fall away to nothing.

"What d-do you want?" she stammered.

The man gave her a small grin and shook his head. "It's not really a question of what _I_ want, but what one of our associates wants. I'd love to shed a little more light on the situation for you, but it's not really our place to do so."

Maria stared at him. She had no idea what he was talking about, and she was starting not to care. Whatever his reasons for having her kidnapped and tied up, she merely wanted to escape and run far away from him. She strained against the ties on her joints, but it was no use. The industrial bonds held fast.

"Sorry, Maria, but you have no choice but to come with us," Luke said matter-of-factly as he straightened. "We have to make a bit of a detour before we get you back to headquarters, but once that's all done, everything will be clearer. Trust us."

 _Trust them?!_ In the span of a week, she had been attacked by vampires, lost two friends, almost got herself killed, and now she was being told to trust these monsters? A blinding wave of panic swept over Maria. She began to shake, her vision growing blurry.

"Please, release me. I beg of you, _signor_. Y-You cannot take me- you must have the incorrect person!" Her tremors intensified, and a tear slipped from each eye, pooling in the shells of her ears. "Please, _signor!_ "

"We're past the point of no return," Luke said, turning away. "But, don't worry. We won't hurt you."

That promise did nothing to calm the young woman. As her anxiety climbed, she did not realize that she was imploring him in Italian.

"Please let me go! You don't know what you're doing- You don't want me- I didn't do anything to you! Sir, please! Are you listening to me!?" She screwed her eyes shut and cried, " _For the love of God, my father at home is worried sick!_ "

"Would you shut the fuck up already?"

Maria was hauled up off the ground and planted firmly on her feet. Before her knees could give way, she was turned to face the cold, golden gaze of Luke's brother. He glared at her and said, "If you keep bawling like a goddamn pussy, I'm going to knock the ever-loving shit out of you, and then I'll turn you into a ghoul on the spot."

His grip on her elbow was starting to hurt her. Somewhere behind her, she heard Luke chiding him ("You better hope he's not listening, Jan, or _he'll_ knock _you_ when we get back!"). She wasn't listening, though; she was too intimidated by Jan's threat to bite her. She clenched her jaw and shook her head vigorously. "Please… Please, do not make me a vampire."

"Huh… Not the reaction I'd expect from a human. It appears you already know about vampires," Luke said, flashing her an amused grin. "Well, that will make explaining things a lot easier once we get back."

"Whatever," Jan said. "It's not our goddamn problem." He gave her a firm tug and dragged her forth a few steps, nearing the front of the first tour bus. "So, brother, are we gonna blow this pop stand or what? I'm champing at the fucking tit, here."

" _Bit_ , Jan," Luke corrected him. "The expression is 'champing at the bit.'"

"I know what I said."

With an irritated sigh, Luke turned away and approached the door. Jan made Maria walk forward, placing her in front of him and jabbing her in the back with his elbow. The girl obeyed his orders, though she was frightened that her knees would give out. She threw her gaze up to the heavens and searched for the face of God in the murky black sky, but found nothing. Silently, she called out to Him, begged for his help, but all she received in response was Luke's infuriatingly calm voice.

"Now, Maria, I should warn you, you're going to experience a lot of different things in the next twenty-four hours, things that will frighten and disturb you. But, don't fret. They will test your mettle and toughen you up."

He made a move to push the door open, but something slammed into it from within the bus. Maria gasped and jumped back, stepping on Jan's foot. He shouted and let fly some rather choice words for her, but Maria was not paying attention; she was transfixed on the horror in front of her.

Inside the bus, scrambling against the glass door, was the most hideous thing she had ever seen in her life. Its skin was withered and grey, as if it had been dead for a few days. Its sunken eyes glowed an ethereal purple from within its skull, and its teeth were sharp and irregular, like broken glass. Maria gaped in terror at the ghoul, but nothing could prepare her for the sensation she felt when she recognized the tufts of black hair poking out from under its helmet, the curve of its aquiline nose, and the oval shape of its head...

"M... Mister Blackwell..." she whimpered.

"Yes, I had to recruit your boss," Luke said nonchalantly, flicking at the glass. "We're low on troops, you see, and needed every person we could get our hands on." He shot her a smirk and added, "Don't worry, he won't bite unless I tell him to. None of them will."

"None of...?" Maria glanced up at the tour bus and cried, "You tell me there are _more!?_ "

"Duh," Jan put in, giving her arm a little pinch. "How else are we supposed to fuck up Hellsing? We're talented and shit, but this ain't a two-man job!"

This was the second time they had mentioned Hellsing, and Maria did not know what to make of it. She wanted to know what their connection to the organization was, why they spoke so resentfully of it, and if they knew Alucard. Above all, though, she wanted to know what they wanted with her, and why Jan was currently prodding her towards the glass door, where a ghoulish Mister Blackwell salivated at the sight of her exposed neck.

But, she was unable to speak. She was stunned into silence, hardly able to believe that she was a victim of a vampire attack yet again and that her boss had been turned into a monster. All she could do was dig her heels in and refuse to get on the bus, even as Luke pushed open the door and shooed Blackwell away.

"Come on, bitch, get your fat ass moving," Jan snapped shoving her harder when she stalled. Maria stumbled forward and almost hit her head on the doorjamb. She could hear unearthly moans coming from within the bus.

"Do not make me go in!" she cried, twisting her head around to look at her captor. "Please, do not put me with the monsters!"

Luke, who was standing at the top of the stairs now, extended his hand to her. "I told you, Maria, the ghouls won't attack you unless I give my say so. Now, get in. The sooner you stop fighting and come with us, the sooner we can explain what's going on."

This wasn't happening. She refused to be kidnapped by a pair of malicious vampires and their army of ghouls. In a final act of desperation, Maria threw all of her weight against Jan and sucked in a breath, preparing to scream like she had never screamed before.

But, her plan never came to fruition. Jan braced himself against her weight, and before she could cry for help, he threw her into the bus and slammed the door shut.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

By the time they had reached their destination, the sky had turned a sickly grey, the late afternoon kept alive by the few shafts of weak sunlight that streaked the clouds. They had driven for hours, stopped for what felt like half the day, and then drove again. Maria had no idea where they were because as soon as Jan had shoved her into the bus, Luke made her sit in the empty front seat and covered her eyes with a blindfold. When she protested, he assured her that she would not be as scared if she did not see her travelling companions, who were growling and hissing in the seats behind her.

Although her sight had been temporarily taken away from her, Maria listened carefully as Luke instructed the ghouls not to touch her, and when they made that mid-day pit stop, she could hear the clanking of metal on metal, the rustle of heavy, synthetic fabric, and a series of strange clicks. Her suspicions about what was going on were confirmed when she heard Jan, who had rejoined them, shout out, "If you do not have a gun, get in the fucking line. Whoever butts in doesn't get lunch!"

Maria had kept silent the entire way, sitting rigidly on her seat, too frightened to cry anymore. She tried to block out the sounds around her and focus on her prayers. She recited the Our Father no less than twenty times, and as they neared the end of their road trip, she had abandoned all forms of formal prayer. Now she was simply talking to God in her head, begging Him to keep her safe. Or, if He could not do that, then she wished with all her might that her death would not be painful.

When the bus screeched to a halt the second time, Luke took off her blindfold and made her look at him.

"We've arrived," he said. "Jan and I have to step out for a minute, but we'll be back soon. Just keep quiet, and don't mind the ghouls. They have their orders, and so do you."

Maria's stomach twisted at the thought of being left alone in a bus full of monsters. She shook her head wildly. "No, no, please, I cannot stay with all these-"

"We don't have time for plea bargains. You'll be fine," Luke assured her before turning away. He snapped his fingers and said, "Let's go, Jan."

The younger Valentine brother, who had been waiting outside , peeked into the bus and looked up at Luke. A twisted smile stretched across his face, and his eyes lit up. He reminded Maria of a young child at Christmastime.

"Fuck yeah, finally!" he said. "Let's do it!"

"With a little decorum, please," Luke muttered as he left the vehicle. Once he was out, Jan shut the door with a definitive bang.

Maria sat hunched in her seat for a moment, fighting to control the utter terror that was building up inside of her. Slowly, she glanced over her shoulder and let out a small cry when she saw the myriad of ghouls, armed to the teeth, looking out the windows behind her.

They paid her no mind, though. Their gazes were trained out the window, their heavy P90s poking through the cracks in the glass like the noses of curious children. Maria watched them tentatively, searching for Oliver Blackwell amongst the crowd. She almost wanted to call his name, see if the ghouls retained any humanity at all, but her voice had left her. It was safer to stay quiet then risk drawing attention to herself.

Suddenly, the ghouls opened fire without a word of warning. Rounds of bullets flew from their guns and out the windows, their bodies barely recoiling from the shots. Maria screamed and fell out of her seat, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. She lay on her side in the alley, screwing her eyes shut as the sound of gunfire assaulted her ears. It seemed to grow louder and louder with each passing second. She pulled her bound wrists out from under her and covered her face with her hands.

After what seemed like a solid minute of relentless fire, the shots ceased and the door click open. Maria lowered her hands and raised her head to see Luke stepping back into the bus. When he saw her on the floor, he adjusted his glasses and sighed. Muttering a quiet "pardon me", he grasped her by the shoulders, hauled her up, and sat her back down on the seat. When she was upright once again, he knelt down before her and produced a knife from within the folds of his pristine white coat. Maria flinched when she saw the blade, but her fear was for naught: Luke bent down, cut the ties on her ankles, and made her stand up.

"You let me go?" Maria asked hoarsely.

"No," he said. "We're taking you with us. We can't risk leaving you in the bus."

With her faint hopes violently dashed, the young woman felt her knees tremble at his words. "We are going where?"

Luke gave her a smug look and replied, "To defeat the enemy. You've heard of Hellsing, haven't you? You mention them earlier."

Maria felt as if he had just shoved her off a cliff. Everything about his demeanor, his personality, and that horrible little smirk told her not to answer him. If he thought the Hellsing organization was an adversary, then she did not want to be caught on the wrong side of the battle. She would not have been able to answer him anyway; the uncertainty of her future was so terrifying that she could not bring her tongue to move and form words.

When she didn't answer him, he merely shrugged and hauled her out of the bus by the wrists. Maria had no choice but to follow him, the cable ties cutting painfully into her skin. She stumbled down the stairs and onto the quiet street. As Jan shouted orders at the ghouls, Luke did not even let Maria regain her footing before tugging her towards a destroyed gate, where the bloody, mangled bodies of two guards lay, and the pale silhouette of a mansion loomed in the distance.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Despite hours of terrible anticipation, nothing could have prepared Maria for what happened inside the manor.

Soon after breaking through the front door and into the entrance hall, the slaughter began. While Luke, Jan, and their captive trailed behind the army, the ghouls destroyed anything they laid their eyes on. Priceless paintings fell off the walls, riddled with bullets. Windows shattered, curtains tore, and carpet was ripped from the floorboards. It did not take long before a slew of armed guards infiltrated the hallways to meet them.

Maria did not have enough time to close her eyes before the ghouls fired on the soldiers. With Luke standing in front of her, she could not see what was happening at the head of the army, but, she could see the red spray of blood, smell the stench of death, and hear the growl of hungry ghouls. She could have sworn she heard a sickening shredding sound, but Luke and Jan were moving too fast for her to stop and watch the monsters devour the cadavers. In a terrible, twisted way, she was thankful for that.

She had been in shock for the first few moments, only able to watch with a sort of detached horror as men dropped like eviscerated flies all around her, until Luke suddenly shoved her to the ground. She screamed and fell face first onto the soggy carpet, retching as the blood of a stranger leaked into her mouth. As she spat it out, she finally realized there was a relentless stream of bullets flying overhead. Cautiously, she looked up to see Jan swinging his P90 left and right, chanting out the directions of his aim as every guard that charged him fell.

The look of sheer, perverse glee on his face was unlike anything Maria had seen before. He was happy to be there, creating chaos and taking lives with reckless abandon. As Maria watched him commit one sin after the other, the idea that she had fallen into the hands of the Devil himself entered her mind. It was enough to thaw the otherworldly numbness that had frozen her heart, and she was suddenly alight with the fires of Hell.

Curling up in the fetal position, Maria bit down on her left hand and screamed. She screamed and screamed, the muffled sounds climbing in pitch, mingling with the sound of bullets, until everything fell silent.

Her cries died down into pathetic little sobs, but she did not uncurl herself when an eerie silence fell over the hallway. After a moment, Luke hauled her to her feet and pulled her mauled hand out of her mouth.

"Enough," he chided, leaning her against the bloodstained wall, away from the murder site. "Crying won't help anything."

Maria looked down at her feet and bit back a sob. Jan muttered something to himself and walked off, laughing obnoxiously. Luke rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses before peering down the newly empty corridor. It appeared they were splitting up.

Maria raised her head and took in her surroundings, trying her best to ignore the blood and gore that painted the walls and ceiling. Was this the Hellsing headquarters? It looked like someone's home- Perhaps it was Integra's? Alucard's? Fresh tears materialized in her eyes as she wondered where her midnight prince could be.

"Let's go," Luke said, snapping her out of her reverie. Without waiting for her to gather herself, he grabbed her binds and dragged her off down the empty corridor, away from the ghouls and his sadistic little brother.

They did not get very far before Luke came to an abrupt halt. He stared off into the distance, inclining his head slightly to the right. Maria heard it too: Footsteps. A new troupe of guards was racing down the hallway, straight towards them.

With Jan and the ghouls gone, this was her chance. Maria sucked in a breath and managed to cry out, " _Aiuto!_ " before the elder Valentine brother clapped a hand over her mouth, squeezing her head into the crook of his elbow

"Be quiet," he snapped.

He pulled her along down the corridor, groping at the walls as he passed until they reached a large, towering mirror. There, Luke's fingers brushed the side, and after a few prods, he swiped at it.

Maria expected the mirror to go flying and crash into the opposite wall; instead, the sheet of glass slid off to the side to reveal a dark, narrow passage beyond. It was a door, and Luke was about to put her on the other side of it.

Maria tried to buy herself some time. She could hear the guards calling to each other, the sound of her salvation. She struggled against Luke's headlock, trying to scream again. She could not allow herself to be passed over by the guards.

It was no use, though. Luke was too strong, and he easily forced her into the landing beyond the secret passage. With a final order to keep silent and stay put, he slid the door closed and left Maria in the near-darkness.

Stunned into inaction for a moment, all Maria could do was watch Luke calmly take a cigarette from his coat, light it, and walked off down the hallway. When he was out of her sight, Maria finally became aware that her heavy breaths were echoing. She turned and looked around. She was standing at the top of a stone staircase, and a vaulted ceiling arched above her, like the gaping mouth of some giant beast.

Maria peered down the length of the stairs. A black abyss waited for her at the bottom, no doubt leading into the throat of the still and patient monster. Every ounce of common sense within the young woman screamed at her to stay where she was: She had no idea what was down there, and thus far, Luke Valentine had kept her out of harm's way. Devil you know, her conscience seemed to say.

And yet, the darkness beckoned her. The possibility of escaping the two vampire brothers was all she wanted now, and this secret passage could be her ticket to freedom. The longer she stared, wondering, the more the shadows seemed to dance. They crept up the length of the staircase, undulating and billowing like a gentleman's cloak caught in a breeze. It was comforting, in a fatalistic sort of way. Whatever her decision, there would only be darkness waiting for her at the end of this ordeal.

Suddenly, the agonized screams of the guards assaulted her ears. From beyond the mirror, the horrible noise swept into the passage and rang through the stairwell. It was enough to pull Maria out of her thoughts and throw her into action. Without a moment to lose, she dashed down the steps and threw herself headlong into the waiting abyss.

* * *

 **Yeah, this chapter wasn't so romantic... But, you gotta have some plot too, right? Now, for those of you who are interested...**

 **\- "Lasciami stare" means "leave me alone"**

 **\- "Aiuto!" means "Help!"**

 **If my translation is off, please tell me! I don't want to be one of THOSE people... Anywho, thanks so much for reading! :)**


	7. A Problem like Maria

**Hey, everyone! So, here we have a (kinda) speedy update for you all... I guess the planets aligned, and me and my beta worked quickly :) I can't promise a weekly update all the time, but we'll try our best to do so once in a while... Anyway, before we begin, let's answer some of these here reviews!**

 **The Dwarf King Xsorath:** **I hope you're not pissed! Here's the update ;)**

 **VampireDA3:** **No Anderson kittens yet, but kittens will be had in this chapter! :P**

 **darkangelynn5:** **Here's what happens next! :D**

 **my-forgotten-rose and KendraTheVideoGameNerd:** **Thank you for the encouragement :)**

 **And, as always, thank you to my dear readers, followers, and favorite-ers. You guys all keep me motivated :P Anywho, let's get started...**

* * *

Alucard sat in his chair, waiting impatiently.

He resided in the lowest basement, but he could faintly hear the mayhem many floors above him. The shouts of wounded guards and the occasional roar of a ghoul drifted down into his room and teased him with the promise of battle. Knowing that even the Hellsing guards could not defeat an undead army on their own made the vampire all the more eager to fight. He wished the leader of this senseless attack would find him soon. He was getting bored, almost to the point of restlessness.

Suddenly, a heavy thud sounded upon the gilded doors. Finally! Grinning, Alucard crossed his legs and leaned on his right armrest. It was about time. This was usually the part where his opponent burst through the door, strode in, and challenged him.

But, none of that happened.

After the thud, he heard a high-pitched cry that reminded him of a wounded animal. Alucard uncrossed his legs and leaned forward to listen. There was another, softer thud, and a strange, scraping sound against the lower right panel of the door. After that, all was silent, save for the sound of weeping.

Confused, Alucard rose from his chair and approached the door. Using his ability to pass through walls, he slipped his head through the top right panel, craning his neck around to see who was slumped against the gilded barrier. When he saw a trembling, sobbing brunette in a long skirt and blood-stained cardigan, all thoughts of battle fled his mind.

"Maria…?"

The girl looked up, and with a flash of her tear-filled green eyes, he knew it was her. She screamed and scrambled backwards, her terrified gaze locked on his half emerged form. Alucard quickly slipped through the rest of the door, materializing in full within seconds.

Before he could ask her what she was doing in the Hellsing manor, she rose up onto her knees and stretched her arms out towards him. It was only then he noticed that her wrists were bound together, the cable ties squeezing ugly purple bruises onto her skin.

"Alucard..." she whimpered. "Oh, _grazie a Dio..._ Please, help..."

She raised her knee and made an attempt to push herself up. Alucard moved forward and grasped her hands, helping her keep her balance. He could feel her shaking like a newborn foal attempting to stand for the first time.

When she was steady on her feet, he let go of her, removed his glasses, and bowed his head towards her. "What are you doing here?"

Her face twisted into a distressed grimace as she began to shake her head. "I do not know. Th-they took me- They took me in the street, and they took me to this p-place. I do not know what they want with me, but they are killing everyone!"

Maria bowed her head and began to cry harder. Alucard watched her with a neutral expression, expertly concealing the rage that burned through him anew. He hadn't the slightest clue why Maria seemed to constantly attract darkness to her life, but whatever her inclinations, this was no place for a girl like her. And, as she wept, he realized that he could not remember her ever being this distraught, even on the night her friends got killed. It discomforted him more than he would have cared to admit, and the eagerness to fight slowly returned and mingled with his anger like an intoxicating poison.

But, before he could turn his attention to battle, he had to protect the human girl.

He straightened and asked her to wait a moment. Turning on his heel, he passed through the door and unlocked it from the inside. When he opened it, she did not need any prompting to step over the threshold and into his room. After locking the door behind them, he moved around her and took both her hands into his. Ignoring her surprised little gasp, he bowed his head, raised her wrists to his face, and bit through the cable tie. The plastic fell to their feet in two pieces.

"I thank you," Maria murmured as he let go of her. She glanced down and rubbed the bruised skin, but there was no time to dawdle. Alucard could feel a presence from beyond the door, at the top of the stairs. He glanced down and saw a thin shaft of light creeping into his room from under the door. Someone had pulled back the mirror.

"Come with me," he said, grasping her gently but firmly by the elbow. He hurried her across the large expanse of the empty, stone room, and led her around the back of his towering throne. After positioning her against the back of the chair, he pushed his palms down on her shoulders. Understanding, the girl lowered herself to the ground and brought her knees up to her chest. Alucard followed her down as well.

"Listen to me," he told her, catching her frightened, doe-like gaze in his own. "You're to stay here until everything is over. Do not move from this spot, and cover your head when I tell you. As long as you do as I say, you'll be safe."

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Maria nodded. She continued to look up at him, her eyes wide and glassy, shining with more than just tears; there was a plea in her gaze, something that begged him not to leave her. He had seen that look before. Long ago, another woman had looked at him the exact same way, when the barbarians were literally at the gates, and the threat of total defeat hung over their heads. He had not been able to keep her safe that time.

But, this time could not compare. Alucard was not the same as he had been back then, and right now, he was expecting only one opponent. This time, he could deliver on his promise that the young woman would not get hurt. He knew he could.

From beyond the door, he could hear footsteps descending down the stairs. Still, he did not get up immediately. Instead, he kept his eyes on Maria, wondering if there was anything he could say to calm her down. He had never been good at comforting people, so he settled for brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes before rising to his feet. He sat back down on his chair just as the heavy gilded doors off their hinges with a resonating crash.

"I know you're in here," said a suave voice, dripping with overconfidence. A shadow of a man glided into the room. "Even when you're hiding, I can feel your presence."

Alucard laced his fingers together and allowed himself a cold, little smile. "Why on earth would I hide?"

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Maria sat hunched behind Alucard's chair, quivering at the sound of Luke's voice. She gripped her knees, the nail digging into her skin through her skirt. She was tried to follow the two vampires' conversation, bracing herself for the moment they would start fighting.

"Your name gets thrown around quite a bit, Alucard," Luke was saying. "The things people say…"

Maria blinked. People said things about Alucard? What people? What things did they say? She listened intently as Luke named off a handful of colorful titles Alucard had apparently garnered over the years.

"When I was human, I feared you- the stories, anyway. And when I gave up being human, when I became this, I began to admire you," Luke continued. "You, the first great pioneer of immortality! No matter what the rest of us do, really, we're all just chasing your shadow."

If Maria had not been cowering in fear of her life, she would have asked Luke what he was talking about. Did his words mean what she thought they meant?

Alucard, on the other hand, was unimpressed.

"That's ridiculous," he said with a scoff. "You fool. There's no such thing as an immortal."

Luke chuckled. "Yes, I know. And once I have your head on a stick, everyone else will know it too!"

Maria felt her heart stutter to a halt. "No…"

"So, now I get to kill you and make my wildest dreams come true…"

"No!"

"Hush," Alucard commanded her.

There was a sudden rustle of clothing, and the all too familiar clicks of loaded weapons. Maria froze, staring straight ahead into the blackness before her.

"Maria, _now!_ "

The wine glass on the end table fell to the ground with a crash as two gunshots rang through the chamber. Maria screamed and covered her head.

An uncanny silence fell over the room. Somewhere by her shoulder, she could hear Alucard chuckling softly to himself, followed by Luke's laughter from across the room. She could not even begin to imagine what was so funny about this.

The calm did not last, though. Another volley began almost immediately, bullets whizzing over Maria's head. She heard the crack of splintering wood as the shots ripped through Alucard's chair. She bit down on her lip and tried not to make noise, hoping with all her might that her prince was all right.

As the bullets continued to fly, something began to tickle the back of Maria's neck. She turned her head to see Alucard's bloody face next to hers, his body slumped over his armrest and his long, black hair falling over her shoulder. The sight of his wide, unseeing eyes and twisted smile pulled a scream from her throat. She scrambled as far away from him as she dared, gazing in horror at the grotesque sight before her.

Luke was saying something, but Maria could barely hear him over the gunshots and the rush of her own blood. Even in her immense terror, though, she managed to notice Alucard's lips were moving.

"Close your eyes," he was saying. "Do it!"

Nodding, she pressed herself against the back of the chair and shut her eyes. There was a loud bang, and suddenly, Luke's voice floated down into her ears. He was much closer now, but Maria still did not open her eyes.

"Check!" was all he said before another volley began.

Maria tried to distract herself while they were shooting at each other. Praying one of the bullets wouldn't find her, she tried to imagine herself back home, in the orphanage, sitting on the front steps of the entrance hall instead. But, a thunderous crash ruined the tenuous illusion and reminded her of where she really was.

As Luke and Alucard exchanged a few words, Maria tried to chase down the memory of the orphanage, but it was no use. It was gone, and she needed something new to think about.

When the shooting started up again, she placed her hands on the back of her neck and pushed her forehead into her knees. What was the use, she wondered. She was going to die, she just knew it. When the noise died down again, she clasped her hands together and started to recite the Hail Mary. Nothing would interrupt her discourse with God. Not even her impending doom.

However, Alucard's voice was an exception.

"Now, Luke Valentine," he said, "it's time to educate you on how a _real_ vampire does battle!"

Maria stopped in the middle of her fifth prayer when she heard that. How exactly did a "real vampire" fight?

Her silent question was answered by an unearthly roar. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest, and the surge of adrenaline that shot through her body made her dizzy. She opened her eyes, only to have the black depths of the chamber staring back at her.

Above the noise, she heard a terrible scream and the pattering of frantic footsteps. For a moment, she thought Alucard had been hurt, but it didn't sound like him; it was the voice of her kidnapper.

What had happened to frightened Luke so badly? Despite the temptation to turn around and take a look, Maria staunchly shut her eyes and stayed put. She was not going to do this to herself.

"What are you?" she heard Luke demanding from afar. " _What in the hell are you!?_ "

A terrifying laugh that Maria did not recognize echoed through the chamber. "Come on! Get up! Attack me! You've only suffered the loss of your legs!"

Maria's blood ran cold in her veins. Whose voice was that? It sounded like Alucard's, but it was much too loud, too abrasive, too unfeeling to be him.

"Summon up your familiars, transform your body, heal your severed legs and stand! The evening is still so young! Come on! Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

Maria slowly opened her eyes. Why did he sound so far away?

"Pull yourself together; the fun has just begun! Come on! _Hurry!_ "

Why had the gunfire ceased? What was going on? These question were an impetus for Maria, the sly and subtle force that uncurled her body and turned her head just enough for her to look over her shoulder. She gasped at the sight before her, just as Luke screamed out, " _Monster!_ "

Maria did not understand what she was looking at. Alucard was gone, and instead, a tall, lanky humanoid form with flowing black hair and a dark aura towered over a badly injured Luke Valentine. The fiend cast ominous shadows upon the walls, where there was no light source, and its hair fluttered in a breeze that she could not feel.

"So…" the thing said in Alucard's voice. "I see you for what you really are: You're pathetic! Nothing but a useless, snivelling lump of meat!"

"Shut up!" Luke shot back. "You're nothing but the Hellsing family toy! Nothing but a dog for the Church of England, not even fit to call himself a vampire! A-"

"Silence," the monster ordered.

To Maria's amazement, Luke obeyed and stopped speaking. In the short time that she had known him, she had never seen him look so cowed.

"I'm a dog?" the monster repeated with a tinge of amusement in his voice. A black mass emerged from his arm, one with teeth and too many eyes for Maria to count. "Then, you're dog food."

The hellhound lunged for Luke, who cried out and fired a few desperate shots, but it was no use. The monster's familiar was upon him before Maria could blink, and she watched it devour her captor, leaving nothing behind but a bloody spray on the staircase.

When the echo of Luke's scream died away, and the familiar disappeared back into the monster's aura, Maria overheard him muttering to himself. She heard something about "overestimated you" and "pathetic piece of shit", but she wasn't paying too much attention to his words. Instead, she was watching the blood, the last indication that there ever was a Luke Valentine on this earth, ooze down the walls, through the cracks in the floor, and into the monster's aura.

Once all the blood was absorbed, the thing turned back around and made his way toward Alucard's chair. As he walked, a dull red glow seemed to envelope him, and before Maria's eyes, the black straight jacket transformed into a bright red duster, the unruly mane of black hair shortened, and the half-crazed expression on his face gave way to a calmer, satisfied-looking one. Alucard had returned, although he had never really left.

When he noticed Maria peeking out at him from behind his chair, his face fell, and his full mouth settled into a deep from.

"I told you to keep your eyes closed," he said. Exasperation laced his voice, but there was something else there that he wasn't letting onto. Maria could see it in his eyes, even from her hiding place. He had stopped walking when he noticed her staring, and he would not move any further. Did he know? Could he sense the overpowering revulsion that had risen up inside of her as she watched him kill Luke Valentine?

Maria knew she should have run. She should have made a break for it, dash past him and run up the stairs. Put as many miles between her and this monster as she possibly could. That display could not have been anything of God's creation. He was a devil, a nightmare, a vampire that defied the Lord's law and had no hope of ever achieving salvation.

And yet, he had been hers. Despite the horrors she had just witnessed, Maria knew the only reason she was alive was because of Alucard. For twenty-four hours, she had repeatedly called up to God and asked Him to spare her life. Father Anderson once told her that the Lord worked in mysterious ways, and she was beginning to feel that the vampire was God's strange way of keeping her safe. Why would He bring her to Alucard over and over again whenever she was in trouble if He turned His gaze away from Alucard's kind?

Maria could not think of coherent answers to these questions, and at that moment, she did not want to try. Instead, she grasped the edge of the blood-soaked chair and pulled herself up. Then, on quivering knees, she hesitantly approached the vampire. He stayed where he was, though his eyes followed each movement she made. In turn, Maria kept her gaze on him, ready to bolt if she found any sign of the sadistic creature she had seen only moments earlier.

She stopped close to him- too close, in fact, but it was too late to move back now. He looked down at her, confusion playing across his face, though he did not speak a word. Maria could see her reflection in his eyes- She was bloody, bruised, and shaken, but she was still standing.

Before she could lose her nerve, Maria swallowed down the last remaining shreds of fear and raised her hand to gently touch his cool, pale cheek. She wasn't sure why she did it, but she braced herself, nonetheless, half-expecting an adverse reaction.

But, it never came. Alucard's eyes widened a fraction of an inch, and his lips parted, but he still didn't say anything. Instead, he let her cup his face, allowing her to assure herself that the nightmare she had just seen was gone. This was the Alucard she knew, the one that had sat and talked with her on the water, the one that had eliminated her kidnapper so that he may never harm her again. This was no demon; this was her prince.

Still, it was not enough to prevent the swell of emotion from overflowing within her. The events of the past week were finally taking their toll on her, and before she could stop it, her knees gave out.

Before she could hit the floor, a pair of arms caught her around her middle, and she fell against a broad, hard chest. Maria fastened her arms around Alucard's neck and began to cry, burying her face into his shoulder. The faint scent of blood tickled her nostrils, which made her cry harder, but she did not let go. She clung to him, her body wracked with sobs, as the stress of several dangerous encounters finally came down on her.

And yet, even as she let her grief consume her, a little part of Maria was thankful that Alucard did not push her off or make her let go. He merely let her mourn the loss of her innocence without interruption.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The events that followed the fight in the basement were a blur to Maria. Somehow, she made it back upstairs, though she did not remember leaving Alucard's room. The interior of the mansion was wrecked, stained with blood and littered with dismembered body parts, but there were no more ghouls around. Jan was nowhere to be seen, but Maria recognized a few people, who she recalled seeing in the hallway: Sir Integra Hellsing caught her attention first, then her butler, Walter. Someone else was with them too, a petite, buxom young girl with short blonde hair and blue eyes, but Maria didn't know who she was. She wasn't in the mood to meet new people anyway.

"What the hell is this?" Integra demanded when her eyes fell upon the shaken young woman. "Alucard, what's going on?"

As Alucard reiterated how he had found Maria and what went on downstairs, Walter and the blonde girl stared at her, the latter evidently more curious. Maria could feel her eyes on her, but she did not meet them. Instead, she focused on the floor and tried to pretend her surroundings weren't painted with the entrails of men who had been alive only moments ago.

When Alucard was finished, Integra stayed quiet for a very long time. Maria looked up and saw the young heiress eyeing her, almost glaring at her. Maria might have felt the stung by the look if this was any other time, but how could she blame Integra for being angry after what had just happened?

"Walter," she said, finally. "Take this young lady to the sitting room. I'll be there shortly." Then, she gestured to Alucard and added, "You, come with me."

Without so much as a syllable of protest, the vampire moved away from Maria and began to follow Integra down the hallway. As he stepped away, an unexpected rush of anxiety shot through Maria.

"No, wait, please," she started, reaching out for him. " _Non lasciarmi_ …"

Someone gently but firmly caught her outstretched arm and bent it back at the elbow. Maria turned to see Walter holding her, his expression patient and composed. Offering her a little smile, he said, "Come along, Miss Sartori."

Maria reluctantly followed him in the opposite direction. She gazed over her shoulder at Alucard, wishing with all her might to be back by his side. As if he had heard her thoughts, he glanced back and gave her a little nod, as if to say, "Everything is going to be okay." With that, he and his master disappeared around the corner, the blonde girl trailing after them.

As Walter led her away, Maria glanced around. "The little brother," she said. "Where is he?"

"Oh, he's quite dead," the butler informed her, sounding as if she had just asked him about the weather.

Maria's eyes widened, and for the first time since yesterday, she drew in a deep, calming breath.

"Do relax, Miss," Walter said gently. "I don't envy your recent experiences, but the Valentine brothers are gone now, and every single ghoul has been dealt with. You are safe."

They rounded a corner and walked into a wing of the mansion that appeared to have survived Luke and Jan's destruction. The walls were covered in red, floral-patterned paper, the carpet underfoot was soft and clean, and the hanging portraits were seemingly immovable. Maria hardly noticed earlier, but the Hellsing manor was actually quite lovely.

Walter brought her up to a stained mahogany door and opened it for her. Maria stepped into a cozy sitting room, where an antique loveseat and matching armchair sat by an empty marble fireplace. A large bay window looked out onto the courtyard, and three full bookshelves lined the walls.

"You'll wait her until Sir Integra is ready to speak with you," Walter said. "I can't imagine she'll be very long, but considering what just occurred, she may need a moment."

"Yes," Maria murmured, taking the room in. "I thank you."

"Feel free to read one of the books while you wait," the old man continued. "Would you like anything to eat or drink? Some tea, perhaps?"

She had not eaten since yesterday afternoon, but she had no appetite. "No, thank you."

With a little nod and a farewell, Walter shut the door and left her alone in the sitting room. Maria did not fail to hear the click of the lock soon after.

She moved towards the sofa, wondering what to do. Despite everyone's assurance, she wanted to throw open the door and run through the mansion until she found Alucard. But, since she was locked in, there was no use even trying to do that. When her eyes fell upon the bookcases again, she seized the opportunity to distract herself and began scanning the novels.

Maria saw the titles on the spines, but she did not read them. She slowly made her way along the shelves, running the tip of her fingers along the rows, until one title in particular jumped out at her.

 _alucarD_

Maria blinked and slowed to a halt. She stared at the small paperback, which was wedged between two heavy dictionaries. Yes, the title read _alucarD_ , but there was something not quite right about it. Curious, the young woman pulled the book off the shelf and looked down at it. When she realized she was looking at the book upside down, she turned it over and held it up to the light. The cover was nothing special, just an old grayscale photo of a castle, but it was the title that made Maria gasp: In her hands, she held the novel _Dracula_ by Bram Stoker.

" _Dio mio..._ " she breathed.

Suddenly, the door opened, startling her. Maria spun around to see Sir Integra in the doorway, her gloved hand resting on the doorknob. She inclined her head towards the sofa and muttered, "Have a seat."

Nodding, Maria pattered over to the loveseat and settled down onto it, placing the book in her lap. Integra sat in the armchair across from her, wasting no time before pulling cigar from her coat and lighting it. Maria watched her take a drag and followed the floating patterns of smoke with her gaze.

After a long, heavy silence, Integra finally said, "You are quite possibly the most unlucky person I've ever met, Miss Sartori."

Maria nearly cringed at the tone of her voice. She hated it when people sounded angry with her.

"I cannot imagine the trials you've experience in the last twenty-four hours," she continued, "but I need to know why you were in the company of our enemies and why you're still alive."

Maria swallowed nervously. She tried to imagine herself in Integra's shoes and suddenly realized how terrible her position probably looked in the eyes of Hellsing: She had accepted a bribe from Integra, spoke with her best agent, and showed up at the estate with two belligerents and an army of ghouls only days later. Fearing that she was about to be arrested, Maria rushed to explain how she had met Luke last week and encountered Jan in the street. Like a good Catholic, she confessed nothing but the truth to Integra, though she wondered just how much of her story the Protestant woman understood. Under stress as immense as Maria's, her English was breaking down into ugly, half-formed sentences.

When she was finished, Integra did not speak. She had not looked at Maria the entire time, resigning to stare off into space while she smoked. Eventually, she muttered, "You mean to tell me that those two animals had been following you for a week prior to your kidnapping, whereupon they refused to tell you what they wanted with you?"

Maria nodded. "The older brother was saying, 'It is what our associate wants' with me. They were going to explain me their actions after they..." She trailed off and shook her head. "Please, _signorina_ , I tell you the truth. I know nothing else."

Integra removed the cigar from her mouth and looked at Maria, her expression guarded. "Does the name Millennium mean anything to you?"

"Meel-ennium?" Maria repeated, rolling the foreign word over her tongue. "I do not know that name. What is it?"

"It was the last word Jan Valentine spoke before he perished."

An involuntary shudder ran up Maria's spine. "It means nothing to me," she insisted.

Integra nodded and returned her gaze to the fireplace for a moment. Maria remained silent, watching the younger woman sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose, as if she was fighting off the beginnings of a migraine.

"In that case..." she said after a moment. "I'm going to have to keep you here for some time."

"What?" Maria said, certain she had misunderstood. "Why-?"

"You just told me that the Valentine brothers had kidnapped you with the intention of bringing you to their headquarters on behalf of someone else. The younger one warned us about something called Millennium, which sounded like a group or institution, one that may be behind your kidnapping. Need I mention that you have no idea what they want with you or why you keep getting tangled up in vampire attacks? The signs are all there; your life could be in danger, Miss Sartori."

Maria's jaw dropped as she struggled to remember her English. "Sir Integra, I cannot... You simply cannot... Wh-what are you-"

"I'm doing my job."

Suddenly, the neutral mask Integra had been wearing fell off, and her expression darkened considerably. "My manor is in ruin, my men are dead, and somehow, you've appeared in the middle of it. I'm afraid you have no choice but to stay under our surveillance until we can determine what we're up against and what your role is in all of this."

The room fell silent. Maria gazed down at her lap, where her hands gripped the edges of Stoker's novel. She had never heard Integra speak so fiercely before, but she knew she was right. After what just happened, there was no way Maria could return to a normal life, even if Integra allowed her to leave. The risk was too great, and the fear was too debilitating. It would not be a life at all, knowing there was something out to get her. Heaving a defeated sigh, Maria let her head fall into her hands, her fingers raking through her brown locks.

"Please, can I make a phone call to Father Anderson, at least?" she murmured.

"What?" Integra demanded.

"Please... He is not my real father, you see, but he..."

She trailed off when she raised her head and saw Integra's expression: She looked as if someone had just hit her over the head with a yardstick, her mouth agape and her eyes wide and incredulous.

"What did you say?" the heiress asked again.

"I want to call my priest... He is worrying about me, and I want to talk with him." Maria furrowed her brow. "What is it? What is wrong?"

Integra did not respond. Instead, she adopted a guarded expression again and mashed her cigar into the ashtray. Standing up, she said, "Follow me", before striding towards the door.

And, as Maria scrambled to her feet, she could have sworn she heard Integra mutter, "This is going to be a bigger problem than I thought."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Meanwhile, twenty thousand feet above the Ardennes Forest, a massive zeppelin floated through the sky. Within the aircraft, in a dark room filled with television screens, a stout, blonde man sat comfortably in his armchair. Flanked by a tall, silent man and another in a blood-stained lab coat, the Major watched the footage from Jan Valentine's tracking chip.

"Poor Special Agent Valentine," the Major said when a round of Hellsing bullets hit the younger brother. "He died as he lived: Cursing and annoying everyone around him!"

"Quite the loss, Major," the Doctor agreed with a malicious smile that suggested otherwise.

"Well, such is the nature of war," the Major conceded, waving his hand in the air.

After Jan had been killed and the camera stopped shaking, nothing interesting happened. A little blonde vampire massacred the remaining ghouls, Integra Hellsing had to stop her, and the men of the Round Table Conference took their leave. The Major fumbled with the remote and fast forwarded. After skipping what felt like an eternity of useless chatter, something interesting off center stage caught his eye. Pausing the video, he leaned forward and inspected the little scene: The vampire Alucard was making his way down the dark hallway, but he was not alone. Holding fast to his arm was a young lady, who was about half his height and sported a tattered skirt, a bloody sweater, and an air of complete despair. She was hiding her face in his sleeve, but the Major did not have to see her face to know who she was.

"I know someone who will want to see this," he said aloud. Turning to the Doctor, he ordered, "Fetch the Commander."

With a quiet "Yes, Major", the Doctor turned and left. Moments later, the Major heard him return, and as he expected, a gruff but anxious voice spoke first.

"What is it, Major? Is it her? Is there news?" the Commander demanded. "I swear, if those _idioten_ have caused her harm-"

"See for yourself," the Major offered, raising his remote.

The Commander's heavy trench coat rustled as he drew nearer. Gazing up into the largest screen, the Major smiled to himself and pressed play. The Commander's breath caught almost instantly.

" _Mein Gott..._ It's her! She's all right! She must have..." He trailed off as the camera zoomed out, revealing more of her surroundings. "Wait... What the hell is this? She's in the Hellsing manor!"

"Indeed, she is," the Major said. "Special Agent Jan Valentine tried to fetch her for you too early and had no choice but to bring her along for their mission. Well, he and his brother are dead now and have effectively left her behind."

As he spoke, the Major could almost see the froth at the corners of the Commander's mouth. On screen, Alucard lay a hand on the back of the young woman's skull and bowed his head to whisper to her. She raised her head to reveal a pair of puffy, tearful eyes. Faced with such an exquisite expression of human suffering, the Major had to bite back a giddy little laugh. The Commander, however, was not amused at all.

"She's in the clutches of the enemy! How could..." He snarled in disgust. "How could they have fucked this up so badly? See how he lays his hands on her!"

Turning away from the television, the Commander declared, "We must get her out of there. I will not have-"

"Might I remind you who you are speaking to?" the Doctor cut in, glaring at the Commander from behind his arachnid-like glasses. "You do not have any authority to tell the Major what we should and should not do."

"It's all right, Doctor," the Major said. "It is perfectly understandable for him to feel this way. Although, Commander, I regret to tell you that we must leave your little _fraulein_ in enemy territory for a little while longer."

The Commander almost choked on his own outrage, but the Major held up his hand and continued.

"While it was admirable of our Special Agents to fetch her, they ultimately failed, and now, she is heavily insulated, surrounded by the formidable adversary that is the Hellsing organization. The time to strike is yet to come, and if we were to retrieve her before then, she may be lost to us forever. Besides..." He allowed himself a malicious little grin. "It would ruin all the fun!"

An uneasy silence settled over the room, broken only by the Commander's constricted voice.

"But, Major… How can I bear to let her to abide for so long with those degenerates?"

"I'm afraid you simply must," the Major answered. Gazing up at the television, he said, "The wheel of fate has turned once again and dropped her into the yawning jaws of Hellsing. She will remain there, trapped and alone, until you come to her rescue, like a prince in the stories of old. But, until then, Commander, you must have patience. Waiting makes the treat that much sweeter, the thrill that much stronger, and the meaning that much greater. Is that not how we survived? Did we not live off the burning passion for war and the willingness to wait for over four decades until the time was right?"

The Commander sighed. "Yes, Major."

"Do not forget," the Major added with a sneer, "since you have made me a promise, I will keep my word as well. Your little _fraulein_ will be delivered to you eventually, and we will both have what we want. The first step has been completed, and now, we must all have some patience."

* * *

 **SOME TRANSLATIONS FOR THE LINGUISTICALLY INTERESTED:**

 **\- "Grazie a Dio" means "Thank God" (although this is a very formal way of saying it; Maria is literally thanking God)**

 **\- "Non lasciarmi" means "Don't leave me"**

 **\- "Idioten" is the plural of "idiot" in German... I don't know anyone who speaks German though, so if I'm wrong, please tell me.**

 **And as a side note, I'm not sure why I picked the Ardennes Forest in that last section... It's a little hard to tell where Millennium's aircrafts are in the series, since the sky pretty much looks the same everywhere, so I put them close to our heroes, but not too close!**

 **Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope you guys are having as much fun reading this story as I'm having writing it :) Stay tuned for more...**


	8. A Small Comfort

**Hey guys! Thanks for waiting patiently and thank you all for reviewing/favouriting/following! I'm super excited about this chapter, so without further ado, here we go...**

* * *

Alucard was standing by the door of Integra's office with Seras, watching the scene before him. Integra sat at her desk, reading information off of her computer, while Maria sat rigidly on a chair in front of her. Even from a distance, Alucard could see the Italian woman's shoulders quiver and sense her incredulity. She carried the aura of someone whose world was about to be torn down, and Alucard hadn't the slightest idea how she would react.

"Master," Seras whispered hesitantly, "who is that woman?"

He kept his eyes on Maria as he answered, "She's the one I was telling you about, police girl. She survived the home invasion last week."

Seras uttered a little gasp and inclined her head, straining to hear Maria's and Integra's conversation. She did not have to try very hard, though, because Maria suddenly cried, "It is not the truth! Sir Integra, it cannot be the truth!"

"What are they talking about?" Seras muttered, asking herself rather than her master. Still, Alucard did not answer, for he was trying to understand the situation himself. Had he heard Integra correctly? Maria knew that Iscariot lapdog, Alexander Anderson?

Integra leaned forward on her desk, her expression and tone as cool as ice. Alucard listened carefully, his interest piqued when he heard his master say, "I have no reason to make this up, Miss Sartori. Iscariot is a real branch of the Vatican, and your Father Anderson is its best warrior. I regret that I have to tell you this, as I don't feel it's my place at all, but you have to understand that Hellsing and Iscariot have had confrontations recently, and Alexander Anderson was in the middle of it."

"I say you are wrong!" Maria burst. "I do not believe it!"

Seras recoiled suddenly, as if she had been threatened with a blessed relic. "My God," she said under her breath. "She's with Iscariot?"

Alucard knew it was a possibility. Judging by Maria's reactions, it was obvious that she knew Anderson. In fact, it appeared that she was very close to him. She could have been a double agent, sent by Iscariot to get an insider report on Hellsing, but there was a lot of evidence stacked against that theory: Maria willingly admitted that she knew the paladin, something a Vatican double agent would never have done. And, as Alucard watched her teeter on the edge of a nervous breakdown, he knew there was no way she could fake surprise at what Integra was telling her. He had had too much experience with liars and traitors to miss the signs of an untrustworthy person, and Maria did not fit the mould.

"Believe what you want, but we've assembled enough information to know who and what your priest really is," Integra was saying. "You can even read the documents on my computer if you're still doubtful."

"I will not," Maria refused, her voice hoarse. "It cannot be Father Anderson. You have the incorrect man."

"Really?" Integra said. "Then tell me this: Was your guardian not in Northern Ireland last week?"

Maria shifted uneasily in her chair. "Yes… But how do you-"

"I know because I sent Alucard and Seras there as well. Don't you remember having to wait until Alucard returned from abroad before you could speak with him?"

"Yes, but-"

"There was a vampire infestation in a Badrick hospital that week. Alucard and Seras were there to take care of the problem, and Anderson disrespected our treaty by setting foot into Protestant territory to hunt the vampire himself."

"You are wrong," Maria insisted, sounding desperate now. "Father Anderson was journeying there to open a new orphanage! He told me this!"

Alucard truly pitied the girl, but he had to hide the smirk that was tugging at the corners of his mouth. Is that really what Anderson had told her? If only she knew what had actually happened…

"Then I'm afraid he was lying," Integra snapped impatiently. "Unless 'opening a new orphanage' is code for attacking my best agents- _unprovoked_ , mind you- then maybe he was telling the truth."

"He… What?" Maria choked.

"Without my intervention he would have murdered Seras, and he made an attempt on Alucard as well. This may be hard for you to accept, but it's the truth: Alexander Anderson is not who you think he is."

The young woman shook her head. "No, no, he would never…"

"I'm not going to debate this with you, Miss Sartori," Integra interrupted. "The proof is in the computer files. If you want to read them and disprove them with tangible evidence, that's another story, but if you want to refute our research simply on the grounds that you don't believe your guardian capable of such sins, then I have no more interest in discussing this."

Alucard saw Maria bow her head and heave a sigh. He knew she was clinging to her denial with every ounce of strength she could muster, and if she were anyone else, he would have derided her for being stubborn and delusional. Denial was a symptom of a weak character, and he had never had a high tolerance for those who willingly chose to keep themselves in the dark.

But, he could not bring himself to feel angry about her behaviour. She certainly struck a pathetic figure, slouched in the chair with her hair falling into her face, but not even one spark of annoyance alighted within him. Instead, his pity was of a much softer nature, and he didn't completely understand why. He was tempted to chase down the feeling and take another look at it, but he hardened his heart and resisted. Too much was going on right now for that nonsense.

"I'm going to write a letter to the Vatican as soon as I can," Integra was saying. "But understand that matters here have to be tended to before I can do that. You're still going to stay with us, and I'll keep you abreast of what happens."

"Yes," Maria muttered, her voice hollow. She had lost this battle, and she knew it.

"I don't believe it," Seras said, turning to Alucard. "What are the odds she'd know that priest, Master?"

What are the odds indeed, he wondered silently. He watched as Maria rose to her feet, turning as Walter approached her. The butler gestured to the doorway and she nodded before turning to follow him. When she looked up, Alucard caught her eye and ignored the slight start she gave when she noticed him.

The poor girl looked utterly miserable. Her tears had dried up to leave nothing but the sullen, passive expression of defeat on her face. Alucard kept his own expression neutral, taking care to hide the many thoughts that threatened to overwhelm his mind. He merely held her gaze and hoped that she could read the one message he allowed to break the surface of his mask: _We'll talk later._

 _xXxXXxXxXXxXXxXXxxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX_

After a small supper of soup and bread, Maria had been led to the guest room on the main floor and stationed there for the night. Her quarters were more comfortable than any place she had stayed in England yet. An elegant, four-poster bed occupied the left side of the room where a door led to a master bathroom. An ornate, fringed lamp sat on top of the large, wooden dresser and lit up the creamy white walls and matching carpet, and a few steps away from her bed, a pair of peach-coloured drapes concealed a towering window. Yes, it was a cozy and elegant room, but Maria found herself unable to relax.

As she showered and brushed her teeth, she replayed her conversation with Integra over and over again in her mind, dwelling on the parts that involved Father Anderson. She was incredibly upset with the wild accusations made against him and the Vatican, but she decided she was not going to fight anyone in this mansion about it anymore. Both she and Integra could repeat their stories until each were blue in the face, but it would always end in stalemate. Maria simply could not believe that her hostess had been talking about her Father Anderson. She concluded that Hellsing had to have had the wrong man.

When Maria slipped into her nightgown- a plain, old hand-me-down from Integra- and prepared to go to bed, she found herself unable to turn off the light. She slipped between the pristine white covers of the queen bed and laid her head on the pillows, but her eyes would not close. She did not want them too; she was afraid of what she might see in the darkness.

She rolled over onto her side and stared absent-mindedly at the door. The urge to find something to wedge under the doorknob was strong, but she resisted it. Instead, she let Walter's earlier assurance play over and over again in her mind.

 _I'm safe,_ she told herself. _Safe…_

Still, she could not bring herself to close her eyes and fall asleep. Maria sat up and let her gaze fall on the dresser, where she had left Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. After a moment's hesitation, she threw back the covers, hopped out of bed, and retrieved the paperback. If her fears were going to keep her awake all night, she might as well confront them.

Settling back into bed, Maria flipped open the novel and began to read. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Father Anderson would disapprove, but she convinced herself that these were extenuating circumstances. She had had one too many brushes with vampires not to read Stoker's classic now.

Maria was surprised by how quickly the novel moved into the action. Within a few pages, she had met Jonathan Harker, who was on his way to settle a real estate deal with a Romanian count named Dracula. Maria was intrigued by the constant warnings Harker received from the locals, and a shiver ran up her spine when she read about the mysterious coach driver who had picked the hero up near the Borgo Pass. In wilderness of the Carpathian Mountains, a pack of wolves was just beginning to close in on Harker and his carriage when a knock at the door startled her out of the story.

Maria dropped the book and stared at the door. Willing her battering heart to still, she told herself it was probably Walter with a change of clothes for tomorrow. She pushed back her covers and made herself get out of bed. When she opened the door, though, nothing but the dark hallway stared back at her.

Unwilling to step out of her room, Maria leaned through the doorway and looked down both ends of the corridor. Nothing but the ghostly faces of the portraits stared back at her from their places on the walls.

"Good evening."

At the sound of those two words, she uttered a little cry and jumped back away from the door. Out from the shadows, directly in front of her, Alucard emerged. He did not look dressed for bed, but his hat and glasses were gone, and his cravat hung loosely from his neck. He stepped into the light, his calm gaze settling on her face.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Maria sighed and shook her head. "It is all right... Y-You did not scare me."

They both fell silent, the lie hanging in the air between them. Maria looked down at her toes, suddenly remembering that she stood before him in nothing but a flimsy nightgown. Before her self-consciousness could consume her, she stepped to the side and said, "Do you wish to enter?"

Alucard chuckled. "If you are inviting me in, then yes. I wish to enter."

He swept past her and into the bedroom without delay. Maria shut the door after him and made her way back to her bed. She arranged herself on the mattress, her nightgown settling down around her in puffy cotton clouds, when she noticed that Alucard was simply standing in the middle of the room. She stared at him for a moment until she finally realized what he was waiting for.

"Ah, _scusi._ " She scooted off to the side and gestured to the free space. " _Per favore_ \- I mean, um... Please, s-sit down."

With a little smile, the vampire cleared the room in one step and took his place on the bed next to her. Maria drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Despite his proximity, he did not look at her, opting to stare at the closed door instead. His expression was unreadable.

"You are... angry with me?" she guessed tentatively.

"Why would I be angry with you?" he asked.

Unable to help herself, she muttered, "You think my priest attacked you."

He scoffed and shifted his weight, leaning back on one hand while the other rested on the top of his thigh. "I don't think; I know," was his reply. "I understand that this is hard for you to accept, but everything my master told you was true."

"No, it is not," Maria said matter-of-factly. "Alucard, I am sorry that there was a person that attacked you, but it was not Father Anderson. He..." She trailed off and looked out the window, where the full moon hung in the sky. "He is not a man who does such things."

When he did not reply, she tore her gaze away from the moon and found him looking at her with a severity that made her nervous. "How long have you known him?" he demanded.

"Father Anderson?"

"Yes."

"Since I lived at the orphanage," Maria answered. "I lived there since I was one year old. He is like a parent to me. From him, I learned the word of God, how to be a Christian, what it means to love my friends... He baptised me, confirmed me, taught me..." She sighed, her heart heavy with memories. "He cannot be the man you speak of, Alucard. Father Anderson does not fight."

Alucard did not say anything to contradict her. In fact, he did not say anything at all, though Maria suspected he wanted to. She could tell by the way his eyes flashed at her words, and how the corner of his mouth twitched but disallowed any words to spill forth. After a moment, though, his face relaxed, and he gave her a crooked grin.

"Believe what you will, _signorina_ ," he said. "But understand that everyone keeps secrets, even the people you hold most dear to your heart. Some are simply better at hiding them than others, but they never stay secrets. Sooner or later, the truth will always be revealed."

That statement seemed to carry a warning that Maria chose to ignore. She did not know what was true or false, real or imaginary, anymore. All she knew was that she was steadfast in her belief that Hellsing accused the wrong Alexander Anderson, and no one was going to convince her otherwise.

She was about to tell Alucard just that, when his eyes fell upon the little paperback novel by her pillow. He reached over and picked it up, taking a moment to read the title before shooting her a quizzical glance. Maria felt her face flare up again, though she wasn't quite sure why.

"Hardly the kind of reading material I'd expect someone in your situation to be drawn to," he said lightly.

"I..." Maria hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "... I have questions."

"Well, I tried to satisfy your curiosity as best as I could last time," Alucard teased.

"They are different questions," Maria said quickly.

"What are you so curious about?" he asked, putting the novel aside and turning his body towards her. Maria swallowed down her apprehension, wondering how to express herself in a way that wouldn't offend him.

"I want to know," she started slowly, "what the story is..."

"Really?" Alucard pressed. He didn't sound like he believed her. Maria could almost feel the stress of the lie coming down on her, squeezing the truth out of her mouth.

"I want to read it to know if it can help me understand," she blurted out after a moment. "I want to know why it is that Bram Stoker wrote this book and who is in it." She looked away from him and added in a low voice, "What Luke Valentine said earlier... I remember what he was calling you, and when I was speaking to Sir Integra, I saw this book... I thought it said your name, but it was upside down..."

She summoned all her courage and looked back up at him. "You... know this story?"

Alucard looked down at the novel, his mouth taught. Maria waited with baited breath until he finally said, "I do."

He pushed the book towards her, and continued, "You saw and heard a lot of things today, and you deserve some answers. You'll find some in here, but be warned: You shouldn't believe everything you read."

He leaned towards her slowly, his face suddenly serious. "I'll grant you this, though: What you heard down in the basement was true. I have been known throughout history by many names, rejected and accepted in many forms, and have lived and died to let others tell the tale"- he tapped the book lightly- "This is an embellished account of something that happened long ago, and I'd advise you to read it with a critical eye. All monsters are man-made, but even they can become twisted by the pen of an imaginative author."

"You speak of yourself?" Maria whispered.

When Alucard nodded, she could feel her heart sink, weighed down by a strange mixture of pity and something else she couldn't quite place. She let go of her knees and uncurled her legs, moving a little closer to him. She looked up into his eyes through his dark bangs, hoping he could see the sincerity in her face.

"You have warned me since we met," she said, "but I do not see a monster here. Luke and Jan Valentine, they were monsters, but not you..."

"Then you weren't looking hard enough in the basement," Alucard countered, but Maria was undeterred. With quivering hands, she slowly reached out, the sleeves of her nightgown falling back over her elbows, and took his face between her hands. She was shocked at her own boldness, but she tried not to let it derail her. She had to tell him that he was wrong. She had to make him understand.

"I will not tell a lie; I do not know what to feel anymore," she murmured. "And I do not know what to think. When you..." She paused and swallowed down her fear. "... When Luke Valentine died, I was so frightened. But not so frightened that I want to run away. I live, and it is because of you."

She was so close to him. She could see the dark circles under his eyes, the slight crook in the bridge of his nose, as if it had been broken a long time ago. When he sighed at her words, his warm breath ghosted over her lips, and his bangs brushed her forehead as he slowly leaned in towards her. Her breath caught noticeably, but she had one more thing to tell him.

"I cannot hate you because of what a book says," she managed, her voice barely a whisper. She shook her head, feeling dizzy when the tip of her nose brushed his. "I cannot..."

"Maria..."

She stared up into his face, framed by her small hands, hardly daring to draw breath. Her elbows were bent, her forearms pressed against his chest- was he leaning against them? She didn't think to ask because as soon as she raised her chin, Alucard took the opportunity to press his cold, smooth lips against hers in a gentle kiss.

Maria's eyes slid closed, and the world fell away to nothing. She forgot about the Valentine brothers, the terrors she had witnessed all week, and the accusations made against Father Anderson. All she could understand at that moment was that she was sitting in a bed, barely clothed, and Alucard was kissing her. She inhaled deeply, drawing in the lingering scent of gunpowder and blood on his clothes, allowing it to intoxicate her. She shifted her weight and wound her arms around his neck. He was drawing her into him, and she was powerless to stop it.

As she moved, she felt his hands move to her sides, his long fingers following the curve of her ribs. He was pulling her closer, and when she felt her chest press into his, she broke the kiss to utter a little gasp. Alucard gently caught her bottom lip with his teeth, their sharpness sending involuntary shivers up Maria's spine. She knew what he was asking, and she found herself relenting, parting her lips just enough for him to deepen the kiss and muffle the little moan that escaped her throat.

Maria didn't know how long the kiss lasted for, but it ended all too soon. Before she was ready, she felt Alucard loosening his grip on her. When she felt his mouth leave hers, she reluctantly opened her eyes, looking up at him with a heavy-lidded gaze. A hint of a smile played over his lips, and his eyes almost seemed to glow in the soft lamplight. Maria tried to think of something to say, but all she could do was stare, struck for the first time by how uncanny his beauty was.

The haze of the kiss seemed to clear quicker for Alucard, though. Slowly, as if trying to maintain the spell he had cast over her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed gently. She gradually unwound her arms and felt herself falling back. When her head landed on the downy pillow, she saw his face appear over hers. Before she could ask him what he was doing, he brushed a few stray locks of hair from her forehead, gave her a little smile, and murmured in a husky voice, "Goodnight, Maria."

With that, Alucard rose to his feet and strode towards the door. Maria turned and watched him go, trying to remember how to say goodbye, when he stepped through the door without even opening it. He was gone, leaving the young woman to lie motionless on her rumpled bed sheets, staring after him, trying to fathom exactly what she had just done.

 _xXxXXxXxXXxXXxXXxxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX_

Meanwhile, nearly a thousand miles away, the clock struck nine o' clock at Saint Ferdinand's Orphanage. Under the supervision of the nuns, the children washed their faces, brushed their teeth, and dutifully readied themselves for bed. In the adolescent dormitory, while the boys occupied the bathroom, a trio of girls knelt by their respective beds, their hands folded and their heads bowed in prayer. As they prayed, Father Alexander Anderson peeked in from the doorway and smiled when he saw the serene display of faith. He gently closed their door and made his way down the dark, silent hallway.

Maria used to pray like that. Every night before bed, she would drop down to her knees, rest her elbows on her mattress, and spend a good ten minutes in silent prayer. As she got older, she reserved her discourse with God for either Mass or times of total privacy in the chapel, but the memory of the little girl setting an example for her peers always warmed Anderson's heart.

He wasn't sure if he would ever see her look that calm again, though. The trauma Maria had endured prior to his visit had visibly changed her: She was paler than he recalled, and her face had been taut with a sort of fearful anticipation, even when she appeared totally relaxed. As Anderson stepped into his bedroom, he silently asked God to watch over her in his absence.

Sighing, he bent to unlace his shoes and sat down on the bed. The moonlight streamed in from the open window, illuminating the drawings on his wall that the orphans had made for him throughout the years. He straightened and gazed up at them, frowning to himself.

He always worried about the children, even when they grew up and started lives of their own. There was not a day that passed where he did not think about how Enrico Maxwell was faring at the Vatican, or what Maria was doing while she was so far away from home.

However, Maxwell was older, wiser, and more worldly than most of Anderson's charges. Maria, on the other hand, was different. Anderson knew that she was not fit to deal with the evils of this world or to confront the heathen when she met him. She was too trusting, too innocent, to recover from what she had gone through.

Anderson changed for bed and stretched out on top of the covers, folding his arms behind his head as he grimaced. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how innocent Maria was anymore. The death of her flatmates had exposed her to a dark and twisted reality he had worked so hard to keep her away from. He knew that he could not protect her forever, but her strange behaviour during his last visit had left him so ill at ease that he regretted not convincing her to return to Italy that night.

With a glance to his right, Anderson saw his cellphone resting on the bedside table. He grabbed it and flicked it open, gazing hesitantly at the screen. He wanted to call Maria home now, tell her to get on the next flight and not worry about the cost. Setting foot into that heathen country had been a mistake, and she needed to return to where she truly belonged.

Still, his conscience stayed his hand. Maria had desperately wanted to go to England and jumped through hoops to ensure that her work and living accommodations would please him. She was doing the Lord's work over there, and Anderson was struck by the idea that taking her away from it might run counter to God's plan.

Sighing heavily, the paladin snapped the phone shut and threw it into his bedside drawer before he could change his mind. Maria would be all right. She was a good and virtuous girl, and she had many people watching over her at Saint Nicholas'. She would be fine.

And yet, even as Anderson assured himself, he could not find any peace and fell into an uneasy sleep, plagued by half-remembered dreams and leering shadows with familiar faces.

* * *

 **And there it is! They finally kissed! You don't know how badly I've been wanting to write that scene ;) This felt like the right time, and I hope it didn't come either too early or too late!**

 **Anywho, thank you so much for reading! You guys are awesome! There's more on the way...**


	9. A Twisted Road

**Hello, my beautiful, dearly beloved, patient readers! I am so sorry this update took a long time! To be perfectly honest, I had a bit of writer's block, and I think that had something to with the fact that I, like Maria, wasn't sure how to handle the current situation. But, with a lot of thinking and some helpful guidance from my lovely beta, we got back on track.**

 **So, before we start, I'd just like to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed the story- You guys know how much I appreciate that :) And, if any of you are interested, or are the types who like to listen to music while you read, the last half of the chapter (the part written in Alucard's point of view) was inspired by the song "Ravens Land" by Voltaire. So, give it a listen if you feel like it; it's a beautifully dark tune :)**

 **All right, enough rambling! Here we go...**

* * *

Maria was having a dream, though she did not understand what was happening. Images flashed before her eyes too quickly for her to understand them. She heard strange noises; the rhythmic pounding of running feet, the click of a gun's hammer, and the murmuring voices of the dead drawing nearer and nearer to her.

Then, something was touching her. She felt a strong hand close over her shoulder, and Maria gazed up in fear, expecting to see the face of Death grinning down at her. But, she saw nothing. Darkness greeted her, abating slowly as she woke up. When she heard a noise by her head, she made herself open her eyes, only to discover a pair of blue ones staring right back at her.

Maria let out a cry of surprise and scrambled to sit up. The blonde, blue-eyed girl she had seen yesterday recoiled immediately, almost dropping the folded clothes in her hands.

"Sorry!" the girl apologized. "Um… Good morning…"

Maria blinked and shook her head free of the cobwebs of sleep. Her curtains were still drawn, but the light of day was creeping in through the slits and shining down onto her bed. What time was it?

"Uh, I don't think we were properly introduced last night," the girl continued. "My name's Seras Victoria."

Maria furrowed her brow. She had heard that name before…

"Oh," she said as her memory suddenly returned. "You are the servant of Alucard?"

"Yes, I am," Seras replied with a wide smile.

As she spoke, Maria suddenly noticed how young Seras Victoria was. She could not have been more than twenty years old, and she struck her as a gentle, sweet girl, if a little bit awkward. She certainly wasn't what Maria would have imagined a vampire's servant to look like.

Covering a yawn, she glanced around the room and murmured, "Where is he?"

"My master? He's still asleep, Miss…." Seras trailed off, cocking an expectant eyebrow at the young woman.

"Sartori," Maria finished. "But, Maria is fine." She peeked out her window to see a cloudless blue sky stretching across the horizon, where the lush green land of the Hellsing estate met the heavens. "What hour is it?"

"Hour?" Seras repeated, confused. "Oh, you mean the time? It's about one in the afternoon."

" _Che!?_ " Maria exclaimed. "I have been sleeping for so long! I never wake up so late!"

"Well," Seras said with a nervous little laugh, "at least you got some sleep…"

Maria pushed back her covers and got out of bed. Smoothing down the skirt of her nightgown, she looked at the blonde and said, "It is day. Why are you not sleeping?"

"Sir Integra wanted me to wake you up," Seras explained, handing Maria the clothes. "She said you're to get dress and meet her in her office."

"All right," Maria murmured. "I thank you."

With a little nod, Seras left her to change. The blonde had given Maria what she suspected to be more of Integra's second hand clothing: A plain white blouse, a blue silk necktie, and a long, high-waisted skirt, which gave Maria more trouble than it warranted. After managing to button up the garment on the third try, Maria ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to discover that she barely had enough room above her hips to tuck her shirt in. Sighing in defeat, she let the tails of the blouse settle on her hips and tried not to feel jealous of Integra's small waist. At least Alucard wasn't around to see her in unflattering, ill-fitting clothes.

Maria stared at herself in the mirror, trying to focus on her face instead of her outfit. She wore a blank expression, but her eyes seemed to dance with the memories of last night. Leaning on the vanity, she watched her reflection raise her hand and run her thumb along her bottom lip. It was a gesture of reassurance, a way of convincing herself that Alucard really had kissed her, and it hadn't all been a dream.

The memory produced a heady rush within her that was not all together unpleasant. Her heart leapt when she recalled the way he deepened the kiss, how his hands had felt as they curled around her sides, drawing her closer to him...

Maria shook her head free of the memory almost immediately. She grabbed a nearby hairbrush and set to work on her hair, trying to ignore the weakness in her knees and the blush on her cheeks. Integra was expecting her, and this was not the time to dwell on her little tryst with the vampire. There would be time for that later.

Once her hair and teeth were brushed, Maria left the guest room and made her way down the hall. Integra's office was just around the corner, and when she entered through the large, double doors, she found the heiress sitting at her desk, her butler standing discreetly off to the side.

"Good afternoon, Miss Sartori," Integra greeted her as she walked into the room. She gestured to the chair in front of the desk, and Maria sat down, trying not to squint as the bright afternoon sun poured into the office from behind Integra's chair.

"I presume you were well taken care of last night."

Maria's jaw dropped at Integra's words, and she managed out a strangled, "Pardon me...?"

Integra looked up at the flustered girl through her glasses, her brow furrowed. "Walter provided you with some supper and amenities for your room, did he not? I'm asking if you were comfortable with your accommodations..."

Maria's toes curled in her shoes as she fought the urge to cringe at her own misunderstanding. Praying that she did not look as embarrassed as she felt, she simply murmured, "Oh, yes... It was fine..."

The Hellsing leader gave her a suspicious look, but did not say anything further on the matter. Instead, she set aside the papers she was handling and folded her hands on the desk, adopting a business-like air that seemed to clear the atmosphere of the awkwardness Maria had created.

"There are some things we have to get in order in the next few days," Integra informed her. "Firstly, I regret to tell you that since you'll be staying with us, you have to give up your work at Saint Nicholas' Institute for the time being."

"What?" Maria burst, unable to help herself. "But, I have a contract with Saint Nicholas' and the company I travel with! I cannot leave without-"

"I took the liberty of calling your travel agency and cancelling your agreement with them. I also called the orphanage and explained that you had been called back home for a personal emergency." Integra interjected. Her face seemed soften as she said, "I realize that volunteering is important to you, but considering the recent events, it isn't wise or safe to let you continue working there."

She was right, but that did not make the information any easier to swallow. Maria had dreamed of volunteering at Saint Nicholas' ever since she saw the ad on a bulletin board at her university. She had come to England, excited and inspired to do the Lord's work and help children in need, and now, after just a month, that dream was coming to an abrupt and messy end. At the back of her mind, she hoped that God would forgive her for leaving the orphans so suddenly.

"That being said," Integra continued, "you'll be going to Saint Nicholas' today to resign in person, and you'll retrieve anything you've left in your flat to bring here."

Maria nodded silently, looking down at her folded hands on her lap. She could not think of anything that she wanted to do less, until Integra spoke again.

"And, sometime within the next few days, you're going to have to call your Father Anderson to keep up appearances."

"What do you mean?" Maria asked, feeling her heart sink.

"You wanted to call him yesterday- I assume you're in regular contact with him, considering he raised you and is probably worried about you," Integra explained calmly, though there was a slightly bitter edge to her voice. "You'll have to call and assure him that everything is normal. It's what's best for the situation until I can get in touch with the Vatican to sort this out."

The room fell silent as Maria considered her new task. She was loath to lie to Father Anderson, especially now that her situation in England had completely deteriorated, but even more than that, she was shocked to find herself reluctant to even call him. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and she knew he would probably beat her with a bible if he ever found out about it. The temptation to simply run from him and her problems was great, but she was stuck, and there was no avoiding this cruel reality.

"You'll have some lunch, and then Walter will take you to Saint Nicholas'," Integra continued. "Seras will accompany you for your own protection."

Maria nodded and muttered, "Yes, Sir Integra."

With that and a quick goodbye, Maria was escorted out of the office by Walter and led downstairs into the kitchen. As she walked, Maria had hoped to leave her anxiety behind in the office, but it was no use. She was deeply troubled by everything that was going on, and the fact that she had to talk to Father Anderson was making things worse. Suddenly, she was not very hungry at all.

And, as Walter led her past the sliding mirror that led down into the basement, Maria was struck with the terrible realization that the biggest reason she didn't want to speak to her priest was because of what had happened between her and her midnight prince.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The car ride to the orphanage was silent. Maria rode in the back of a luxury car with Seras, staring out the window, watching the motorway pass her by. The little blonde vampire had seemed to sense her agitation and avoided any small talk, which Maria was thankful for. She was much too unsettled to discuss anything at the moment.

As they rolled into the city, Maria tried to fend off the guilt that had started to consume her as soon as she left Integra's office. She tried to imagine what Father Anderson would say if he knew she had kissed Alucard, and the thought made her want to hide in her room and never come out. She had gone against his teachings and let herself become involved with someone he would consider a monster. He had no idea, and she wasn't even going to be able to afford him the dignity of the truth in the form of a confession. She would have to lie about her actions, her whereabouts, her feelings... And that was the moment when she decided that she was not going to kiss Alucard again.

The idea made her heart ache more than she thought it would, but she reasoned with herself: She was already being a bad Catholic, and she didn't need to add to her list of sins. She had to stop before she strayed too far from Catholic Church and her priest. Besides, she barely even knew Alucard. What if he wasn't as noble as he appeared to be? How could she really know what he meant by that kiss?

And yet, even as she told herself these were good reasons to avoid her prince, the girl staring back at her in the window was on the verge of tears. Maria attempted to blink them away and swallowed down over the painful lump in her throat. Father Anderson used to tell her that doing the right thing didn't always feel good, but she never imagined it would be this upsetting. She tried to remember if he had ever said that the right thing sometimes felt wrong, but her mind drew a blank.

Before long, Walter rolled up to the facade of Saint Nicholas' Institute. Turning around in his seat, he said, "I'm going to let you two off here, and I'll find parking around the back. If anyone asks you, Miss Sartori, Miss Victoria is your cousin who's come to collect you."

Shoving all thoughts of Alucard out of her mind, Maria nodded and thanked him. Then, she and Seras climbed out of the car and headed into the orphanage as Walter drove away.

"This place looks new," Seras noted as they stepped into the entrance hall. "Why would they build another orphanage when there's already one in Southwark?"

"This one is for Catholic children. Why? You know that other one?" Maria asked, turning to her companion.

Seras hesitated a moment before quietly answering, "I've heard of it."

The two young women made their way further into the hall, and at the sound of their voices, a stout, black-clad figure came hurrying to meet them. Maria's spirits were lifted a little bit when she saw that the nun was the ever-helpful Sister Margaret.

"Maria, there you are, my girl," she said, slowing to a halt and taking her hands. "We got the call early this morning. Whatever is happening in your life, I'll remember you in my prayers. We're just so sorry to see you go..."

As the nun spoke, Maria was incredibly bothered by the fact that Margaret really had no idea what was going on. She was a kind lady, and Maria hated the idea of lying to her. But, this was one of the only ways she could get out of working, and she had no choice but to play along.

"I am sorry to leave you now, Sister," Maria said. "But I am needed in Italy." She gestured to Seras and said, "My cousin has come with me, and we will return together."

The blonde raised her hand and offered the nun a crooked smile, but remained silent otherwise. Maria guessed she was pretending not to understand English.

After greeting Seras, Sister Margaret ushered them into the front office and set to work cancelling Maria's contract, terminating her status as a volunteer, and getting in contact with her landlord to arrange a same-day check out from the apartment complex. As Seras stood by the door, watching with interest, Maria tried to pretend she was elsewhere. She knew she was in too much danger to work anymore, but all of this cancelling and terminating still made her sad.

When every paper had been signed, and her key to the orphanage had been returned, Sister Margaret walked out from behind the desk and threw her arms around Maria in a big hug. Caught off-guard, the young woman clumsily returned the embrace. Seras looked away with a slight blush.

"We'll miss you here, Maria," Margaret said. "We're all impressed that you stayed on, even with everything that happened, but I believe this is God's way of telling you that you need to take care of yourself and your own right now."

"… Yes, I thank you..." Maria murmured, struck suddenly by how accurate Margaret's words were.

As she pulled away, she was hit by another idea, and before the nun could return back to her paperwork, Maria touched her arm gently and said in a low voice, "Sister, is Father Lowe here?"

"Of course, dear, he's always here," Margaret replied with a nod.

"He is not busy? I want to say goodbye to him."

"I don't believe he's occupied at the moment." Sister Margaret patted Maria's hand. "You'll probably be able to find him in the church."

Maria thanked the nun, and with a final goodbye, she and Seras left the office. As they made their way down the corridor, the vampire whispered, "You'll have to be quick in the church- I can't follow you in there."

"Why not?" Maria asked, furrowing her brow, when suddenly she remembered what her companion was. "Oh... I am sorry. You cannot go in at all?"

Seras shrugged and replied, "I'd rather not. I've had a rather unpleasant encounter with priests and holy things recently."

Her voice took on a slightly rueful tone that did not escape Maria's notice. She knew the girl was talking about Father Anderson, and she immediately felt her face flare up in anger. But, she tamped it down and reminded herself that Seras, like the rest of Hellsing, did not realize they had the wrong Alexander Anderson. She decided that starting an argument with Alucard's servant wasn't worth the headache and let the comment slide.

"Well, I am intending to speak to Father Lowe alone, _comunque._ You do not mind waiting for me?"

They approached the ornate, stained-glass door of the chapel, where the soft, yellow light of the candles glowed from within. Maria turned and saw a stricken look on Seras' face, her eyes wide and concerned.

"How long will you be?" she asked. "I don't think Sir Integra would like it very much if you were left unsupervised. What if something were to happen? There are people looking for you, you know."

Maria had nearly forgotten. She was so caught up in her own guilt and confusion that she almost forgot about the Valentine Brothers and the mysterious Millennium group that was looking for her. Seras was right. It was dangerous to be left unsupervised, and it would be wiser if she did not leave her side at all.

Still, talking to Father Lowe was probably the only thing that would set her mind at ease.

"Miss Seras, I know you are here to keep me safe ," Maria said, "but, I must see the priest. It is..." She hesitated and looked away when she felt her cheeks growing warm. "It is something personal that I must discuss with him. Please, I am very confused, and I need God's help."

Seras glanced at the door and remained silent, clearly deliberating. Maria clasped her hands together and waited with baited breath for an answer. Finally, the blonde sighed and said, "All right, but go quickly. I'll be right out here, so scream if you need me."

Maria smiled, relieved. "I will scream very loud if there is something wrong."

"Oh, and you don't have to call me 'Miss'," the vampire added hurriedly as Maria pulled open the door. "Just 'Seras' will do."

Maria nodded and thanked the young woman before stepping through the door and closing her off from the holy space. The young woman turned and scanned the church for Father Lowe, spotting him within seconds at the altar. He was standing with his back to her, staring up at the massive crucifix behind the altar, and he turned around when he heard her approaching.

"Oh, hello, Maria," he said. "I was hoping I would get to see you before you left."

"Yes, me too," Maria said. Slowly to a halt before him, she started, "Father, I must go soon, but I have one favour to ask."

"What is it?"

The young woman bit her lip, fighting the urge to burst out with the truth right there. "Will you listen to me confess one time more, Father? I have thoughts that bother me…"

Father Lowe offered her an understanding smile. "Of course, Maria. Anything that will set your mind at ease."

As she let go of the breath she did not realize she had been holding, Maria followed the wizened old priest to the confessional at the back of the church. She stepped into the dark booth, sat down, and crossed herself with a quivering hand. Father Lowe slid back the divider and reclined in his seat, pretending not to hear her ragged intake of breath.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…" Maria began, trying to ignore the weight of her faults on her chest.

"When was your last confession?" Father Lowe prompted.

"Two weeks past," Maria answered, though she was unsure of the exact day. Too much had happened recently for her to remember the details of her life before the night she met Alucard.

"And what do you have to confess now?"

Maria hesitated and looked down at her lap. Her hands lay folded on her skirt, her fingers painfully entwined, as if each one was holding onto the other for dear life. She closed her and quietly admitted, "I've disobeyed m-my… father."

"How so?"

The confessional was much too stuffy. Maria's mouth had gone dry, and she wanted nothing more than to be absolved so she could leave immediately. But, she knew that was not how confession worked, so she pushed on.

"Some time ago, I met this person… A man… I met him when I was in trouble, and he saved me. He saved my life so many times, in different ways, and I feel like it is God that keeps bringing me to him. I have thought of him a lot, Father, and when I am there with him, I feel…" She trailed off, trying to find the appropriate word in English, but to no avail. She merely sighed and let her silence speak for itself, hoping that the priest would understand.

"It sounds as if you care very deeply for this man," Father Lowe noted in a neutral voice, but Maria felt herself blush nonetheless.

"I…" She sighed. "I think I do… Yes, I care for him…"

"Does he feel the same way?"

Maria raised her head, and stared at the slatted door of the booth, fighting off the telltale pricking of unshed tears. "I believe, yes… I cannot say what are his thoughts exactly, but I know he is feeling something about m-me… But my father, he would not like this. If he knew that I am…"

"Seeing this man?"

"Yes! If he knew that I am seeing this man, he would be so angry." Maria shuddered as a wave of anxiety crashed over her. She inclined her head to the roof, trying to imagine that she could see the face of God, and continued breathlessly, "This man is not a… person who my father likes."

"What do you mean?"

Try as she might to find God in the ceiling above her, Maria could only see the vast Carpathian Mountains in the stained wooden planks. If she squinted, she could almost make out the carriage that carried Jonathan Harker to his certain death. "I think he has done some bad things, Father. I think, in the past, he was a great sinner, and he pays for what he did now. But, my father would not understand…" She swallowed over the lump in her throat. "My father tells me to avoid men such as him because he says they cannot be forgiven."

"That's not true," Father Lowe stated matter-of-factly. "It is enshrined within the doctrine of the Catholic Church that anyone can be forgiven for anything, as long as they are truly sorry for what they have done."

"Then, what am I to do?"

Maria wrung her hands and drew in a shaky breath. "I have lied to my father about what I am doing, where I am going, and who I spend my time with. I am keeping secrets from him, and it hurts me greatly, but I feel that I cannot tell him the truth… _Infatti,_ I am not able!"

Her voice cracked on the last word. Maria clapped her hand over her mouth and forced back a sob. She was unable to help the rogue tears that slipped from her eyes, though, and she was glad that the priest could not see her. Still, it was impossible for him to miss her distress.

"Now, now, Maria, calm down," he said gently. "You aren't on trial for being a bad daughter."

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "But I feel like one."

"Well," Father Lowe said, "the Fifth Commandment instructs us to obey and honour our parents, but I doubt you would care about this predicament so much if you did not truly respect your father."

Maria heard the priest shift in his booth before he continued, "I understand how upsetting this may be to you, but there really isn't a clear answer to this kind of problem. Normally I would advise you to tell your father the truth and get both him and this man in the same room for an honest discussion."

The very thought made Maria's stomach twist into knots.

"But, it isn't as easy as all that, especially since you're separated by distance," the priest noted. "… You claim that you are 'seeing' this man. Forgive my asking, Maria, but can you clearly define your relationship?"

The question seemed to crash down on Maria's head. Alucard was many things to her- a prince, a saviour, a shoulder to cry on, a force that pushed her towards the darkness- but she could not pin down one thing to say about their relationship. She merely shook her head and answered with a quiet, "No."

"Then, I would suggest," Father Lowe said, "that you speak to him about it first. Seek to understand your feelings and do not judge him for his. Figure yourselves out, and when you are absolutely sure of where you stand with him, then I would advise you to speak to your father. This may take some time, but if you trust in yourself and in God, everything will work itself out."

As he spoke, Maria could feel the weight on her chest finally lifting and the air in the confessional clearing. With the priest's reassurance, she did not feel so frightened or lost anymore. The problem, she knew, was far from solved, but her confession provided a balm, a temporary relief from the internal conflicted she was suffering from.

"And, what is my penance?" she asked softly.

Father Lowe remained silent, pondering the price she had to pay for her deceit.

"Recite the Lord's Prayer twice, each night, before you go to bed, until you can speak with your father. If you can, ponder on the nature of forgiveness and the greater purpose of God's plan afterwards."

As she wiped the remainder of her tears away, Maria allowed herself a little smile. "I will. I thank you very much, Father."

Through the grating in the window, he flashed her a gentle smile and said, "It is done. Now, go in peace."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

After her confession, Maria, Seras, and Walter left the orphanage and stopped by her flat to collect her things. Without much ceremony, Maria had thrown all of her clothes and toiletries into her suitcase and left the key on the table for the landlord to find.

When they arrived back at the Hellsing estate, Maria thanked her companions for accompanying her and bade goodnight to Seras, who looked rather drained after spending the whole afternoon awake. When both she and the butler had left, Maria made her way back to her own room, changed into her own clothes, and lay down on the bed.

Staring up at the creamy white ceiling, she thought about what Father Lowe had said. She still felt the dull ache of anxiety in her gut when she thought about talking to Father Anderson, but she no longer felt like she was about to burst into tears. Now, she was certain that she was not as grave a sinner as she initially thought. Her feelings for Alucard were not wrong, and her keeping secrets from Father Anderson was not the worst thing she could have done. She was absolved for now, and she could take the next step.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows and glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was four thirty in the afternoon. Alucard wouldn't be awake yet. She still had time to think about what she wanted to say to him.

As she sat up, she caught sight of Stoker's novel on the floor. She couldn't remember how the book had ended up there last night, but there it lay, staring up at her, begging to be opened. With a little sigh, Maria retrieved the book, settled herself onto the bed, and flipped to the page she had left off at yesterday. Perhaps some further reading would help her understand Alucard a little better.

It wasn't long into the narrative before she met the infamous Count Dracula, though she was confused to read that he looked nothing like the vampire she knew. Stoker's Dracula was described as an old man with white hair and a moustache, dressed in black from head to toe. Although Maria wouldn't dare ask Alucard's age, she had guessed his appearance was that of a man in his late twenties, and she couldn't imagine him looking any older.

Still, he had warned her that this story was half-fantasy, so she pushed away the thought and read on.

Bad things started happening to Jonathan Harker as soon as he entered the castle of his monstrous host. Maria read with rapt attention about how Harker had seen the Count climb down the castle wall like a bat, the way he summoned a pack of wolves to devour a peasant woman, and how the disobedient solicitor had nearly been attacked by three vampire women. The sensual description of the sisters and Harker's uncharacteristic lust for them bothered Maria. She sincerely hoped that part was something Stoker had made up. The thought of Alucard living in sin with three beautiful women made her stomach do somersaults.

By the time Walter had come to fetch her for dinner, Maria had finished the first section of the novel and was now reading the correspondences between Harker's fiancée, Mina Murray, and her friend, Lucy Westenra. She was not particularly interested in what the two women had to say, though. Maria was more concerned with discerning fact from fiction.

As she followed Walter to the kitchen, she struggled to reconcile the count she met in the book to the Hellsing agent she knew in real life. Nearly nothing about Stoker's character had reminded her of Alucard so far, and she couldn't decide whether that was because the author had misrepresented Alucard, or if it was because she did not know the vampire at all. The uncertainty was so unnerving that it almost made her lose her appetite, but as Walter set out a plate of spaghetti for her, she tried to remind herself of Father Lowe's advice. They would talk, and everything would be clarified eventually.

After her meal and a little small talk with Walter, she excused herself and left him to prepare supper for Integra. The woman had locked herself in her office all afternoon to conduct research, and she had not stopped yet. Maria faintly hoped that her research would produce some answers she knew she desperately needed.

But, as she made her way back to her room, she frightened herself with how easily she was able to push all thoughts of her recent kidnapping and Millennium from her mind. It was now seven o' clock, and she had something more immediate to concern herself with.

Maria found her way back to the corridor where she and Luke had split up from Jan during the siege. There was yellow safety tape strung up around the hallway, and although the mess of dismembered corpses had been cleaned up, the place still smelled faintly of death. She shuddered violently and moved away from the crime scene.

She turned down the corridor Luke had led her through and ducked under the tape. As she walked, she gazed up at the torn and blood-spattered wallpaper, trying to ignore the desecrated paintings that hung tattered from their nails. She was looking for the mirror Luke had hidden her behind, and when she found it, an unexpected sense of relief flooded her heart.

Maria gently slid back the mirror and peeked down the stairs. The darkness below was all consuming, and her first instinct was to retreat. But, she overrode the feeling and made herself step through the doorway. She had done this before, she told herself. In her greatest hour of need, she had found safety in the dark, and there was nothing to be scared of.

Still, she hesitated. Perhaps it wasn't the darkness that frightened her as much as it was the idea that she would have to face Alucard in her uncertainty. She hadn't taken enough time to organize her thoughts, examine her feelings, or think of how she was going to approach him. She had wasted her time reading a storybook instead, and now she was unprepared.

Maria glanced back over her shoulder, where the lamplight shone warmly at her back. She wondered if she go back to her room, get her thoughts in order, and then come back later. But, she was already here, poised to go, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give herself the chance to prolong this internal conflict. She was at the front door, and she could not run now that she had knocked.

Turning her back on the hall, Maria drew in a deep breath and took the first step down the stairs.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Alucard had fallen asleep in his chair again. He realized it as soon as a familiar scraping sound woke him up, and he found himself slumped in his seat, his elbow digging into the armrest as he held up his head. Straightening, he heaved a heavy sigh and blinked away the last foggy wisps of sleep.

A weak shaft of light had found its way down into his room and pooled on the floor by the destroyed doors, where the staircase beyond led up to the main floor. He could see a little shadow cut through the light, growing larger with each step down the stairs. He watch it with a knitted brow, irritated that he had been woken up, but his annoyance dissipated as soon as he saw who the shadow belonged to.

Maria was making her way down the stairs, her hands stretched out in front of her like a blind woman. Alucard guessed her eyes had not adjusted to the darkness yet, and he took advantage of the little time he had to watch her.

He could tell by her wide-eyed expression that she nervous, but she was beautiful nonetheless. She stepped delicately over the wrecked threshold, never looking away from what she perceived to be the void before her. His gaze fell immediately upon her mouth, where shallow little breaths left her lungs, and the memory of their kiss sprung to the forefront of his mind. As she hesitantly stepped into the chamber, he thought again about how she had taken his face into her hands and the way she had inclined her head just enough to let him press his lips against hers… The thought of doing it again made him ache, and he was almost startled at how unfamiliar the feeling was.

Maria glanced around the room, lowering her hands as she went. Alucard guessed her eyes were finally adjusting, his suspicions confirmed when she stared straight at him and came to an abrupt halt. Even without much light, he could see her cheeks colour, and he couldn't help but to smile.

"You're awfully brave, coming down here all alone," he teased.

Maria gulped, the contracting muscles in her neck drawing his eye there. "I-I came to speak with you."

Alucard wasn't surprised. He had left her abruptly last night, probably in a state of utter bewilderment, but it had been for her own good. Not only was the decision to end their kiss harder than he expected, but he knew that what they had done was going to confuse her. Before he went any further with Maria, she had to decide on what she really wanted. Anything else besides walking away last night would have been taking advantage of her.

He rose from his chair and strode towards her. With a little smirk, he stopped a few feet away and made a sweeping gesture with his arm.

"Would you like to sit down? I only have the one chair here, unfortunately."

"Ah... No, I thank you," she murmured, her large green eyes boring into his. "I will stand."

He dropped his arm and nodded in understanding. He turned and walked back towards the chair, settling in just in time to see her drawing closer. She stopped a little way away from him, her hands folded in front of her skirt, her shoulders drawn back in an effort to look confident.

"I... I need to talk to you," she started. "About the... Well, I-I speak of last night..."

Alucard truly pitied the young woman, as it was clear that initiating this conversation was stressing her out, but there was something else churning within him, something that was so potent it nearly overtook the pity. He watched her swallow nervously again as she fidgeted with her fingers, and he suddenly became very unsettled by her anxiety. Was she really so frightened of having this discussion? Or, was she simply just terrified of him? He tried to smile at her, but he was already starting to feel a familiar sense of bitterness prod at his heart. It wouldn't be the first time a woman pulled away from him because he frightened her.

"I want to know," she said, her voice growing quiet, "what... what all of it means."

Alucard gazed silently at her. He had the feeling that if he moved or spoke to quickly, she would run away.

"You... I..." She trailed off and shook her head. "I do not know what to think of any of these things. I do not know why I am here, or what it is that is making me come to you. I keep thinking that it is God that brings me here, but if I said that I do not try to seek you by myself, then that is lies. I know this, but I still do not know what it means that I have k-kissed you, and I do not know why I want to do it again. I want to understand, and I want to do something about this."

Her voice echoed around the barren chamber like an unheard cry for help. Alucard sat rigid in his chair, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His mind almost went into overdrive as he tried to remember how to respond appropriately to such emotional outbursts, but Maria wasn't finished yet.

"But I cannot do a thing if I do not understand you," she continued, her voice taking on a noticeable tremor.

"What do you mean?" Alucard demanded.

She was shivering now, and he doubted it was from the chill in the room. Nevertheless, she stepped towards him on wobbly legs, her gaze never leaving his face.

"I-I have to know, Alucard," she began. "Is... Is it true, the things that happened in the first part?"

He furrowed his brow. "The first part?"

"Of the story," she said. "Did you... Was Jonathan Harker your guest? Did he... Ah, what I mean is, did you... did you really keep him prisoner? Threaten him with the wolves? Leave him to be the dinner of those... w-women?"

Alucard was seized with the sudden urge to throw something. It was that damned book she was reading. He had warned her just last night not to take it seriously, but he knew there was a reason the novel had become a classic: Stoker's gift for words could convince people that the sky was green and dogs walked on two legs. Alucard had never really cared that much before, but something about the words of the late author feeding lies to Maria angered him.

"No, there was no such person as Jonathan Harker. I've walked this earth for longer than both you and Mr. Stoker have lived, and I didn't need the help of a solicitor to secure a home in London. I was perfectly capable of doing it by myself."

This was the bare and honest truth, but it came out harsher than he meant it to. He saw Maria draw back slightly and immediately regretted his short response. He leaned forward in his seat, as if to coax her back, and tried again.

"The entire first section is made up," he said in a softer tone. "Stoker needed to establish a credible villain, and that was the way he chose to do it. Jonathan Harker is just a figment of his imagination."

He was glad to see her shoulders lose some tension. "I see," she murmured, sounding relieved. "But, the place where the castle was? You are..." She furrowed her brow, as if searching for the right words. "You come from the east of Europe, do you not? From Romania? My friend, Katie, she said something about that once..."

Alucard nodded. "Yes, that part is true. But, it's the only truth in that part of the book."

She was moving towards him again, her steps slow but sure, as if she was unaware of what she was doing. The closer she drew towards him, the more her anxiety seemed to dissolve. And, as she approached him, Alucard felt the lingering bitterness of his own assumptions ebb away. She believed him, and he realized now that was what he had been desperately hoping for since she brought up the subject of the novel.

"I am sorry," she whispered. "I do not wish to upset you. But, I need to know what is lies and what is the truth..." She hesitated a moment before adding softly, "And, I need to know what you are thinking. You know what I... what I am feeling, now... But, you, Alucard? What is going to happen now?"

She waited patiently for an answer, though he found himself unable to speak for a moment. This girl, who had plagued his thoughts since the night they met, practically told him that she wanted him, and he wasn't sure how to respond. She was a naive young woman with too much faith in the world and a guardian who had tried to kill him. Every ounce of common sense within him told him this was a bad idea. Yes, she was pretty and kind, but he wasn't good for her. It was better to let her go and pretend that nothing had ever happened. Pursuing her would only bring ruin down upon her, just like it had to the others, and she didn't deserve it.

And yet, he couldn't deny that she had proven her mettle. Maria had survived two vampire attacks within a week, and sought one out because, whether she admitted it to herself or not, she was attracted to him. He knew that, despite her innocent exterior, the girl longed to know the darkness, to step out of that sheltered box of an orphanage she had been raised in and revel in the twisted places of the real world and her own psyche. Perhaps he was not giving her enough credit. Perhaps she was not the paper-thin flower he had made her out to be. She had already known ruin, and it threatened her once again, but she was still standing.

But, above all, the fact that she had come to him of her own free will struck a chord somewhere deep within him. Alucard had left her last night so that she could come to a conclusion about her feelings for him, and the result was standing in the middle of his chamber now. Although he wouldn't admit it to himself, he knew that was what he had been hoping for all along. He hadn't felt wanted in the way she wanted him in a very long time, and if she had freely chosen him, then what was stopping him from choosing her in return?

He rose from his chair and took a step towards her. She did not back away, but inclined her head to look up at him. Her expression told him she was anxious about his answer. Determined to put her fears to rest, he reached down and took both her hands into his.

"You asked me before what 'all this' meant," he said. "I think you know very well what it means: I don't play games, and I don't expect to be toyed with, either. That being said, though, I haven't changed my mind since last night about you. And, it seems you haven't about me either."

She nodded vigorously, though not a word slipped off her tongue. Anticipation crackled in the air between them. Alucard leaned in towards her and brushed a lock of hair away from the side of her head.

"The answer to your question is right in front of you, Maria," he murmured in her ear. "What happens next is up to you."

As he drew back, he could hear her blood rushing through her veins and see the slight pulse in the side of her neck. He tried to ignore it and hold fast to his self-control. The atmosphere was fragile, and he refused to break it by scaring her. She needed to make the first move before he did.

Thankfully, he did not have to wait long. Raising herself up on the tips of her toes, Maria lifted her chin and closed the gap between them with a soft kiss. She was so demure and careful with her advances. It was endearing, but as soon as her lips pressed against his, Alucard wanted more.

He dropped her hands and grabbed her around the middle, pulling her tightly against him. She sucked in a surprised breath through her nose, but she didn't break the kiss. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck and let herself fall against him. He could feel her heart beat against his chest, sending shockwaves through his body, bringing to life the desire for her he had felt just last night. With a low groan, he deepened the kiss and slid his hands down to the small of her back, careful not to lower them any further. When he felt her pull closer, he had to fight off a satisfied smile.

In that moment, he decided it didn't matter where Maria had come from, or whose daughter she was. He didn't care about what she had read in a book, or what she had been told as a child. All he knew was that Maria had shown him where her loyalty lay and just how strong her resolve to stand by him was. She was his, and not even an upbringing by the good Father Anderson could do a thing to change it.

* * *

 **TRANSLATIONSSSS:**

 **\- "che?" = "what?"**

 **\- "infatti" = "In fact" or "In actuality" (don't quote me on this one, though, Google wasn't cooperating with me that day...)**

 **And there's another chapter done! Now, before I wrap up this author's note, I have to be fair with you guys and let you know about my upcoming situation and how it's going to affect this story.**

 **Truth be told, yours truly is a university student, who's going into her last year of school in September. I'll be balancing a full course load, two part-time jobs, and an internship this fall, and that means I'm not going to have as much time to write as I did in the summer. That being said, I have invested way too much time, energy, and emotion into this fic to go on hiatus or stop it all together, so I WILL keep updating. The only problem is, this will most likely mean more waiting time between chapters for you guys. I'm sorry that it has to be this way, but I promise you, I'm going to find the time to write, and the updates will come. I just wanted to give you a heads up before that happened, so as not to leave you all hanging.**

 **Anyway, you guys have been lovely, and I'm so happy you're sticking with me and continuing to read my work :) Thanks for everything! More on the way...**


	10. An End to Ignorance

**Hello, my readers! Thank you for being so patient with me. Summer is coming to an end, and as I warned you last chapter, I'm about to get very busy. But, I like writing this story, and I like you people, so I will continue ;P I'm just going to be rather slow, that's all.**

 **Anyway, many thanks to the two guests, BadWolf, and Lobisomen616 for the reviews! The feedback is always appreciated, and it make me happy to see people are enjoying what me and my beta reader put out. And, of course, thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, and simply just read the story! Every bit of support helps :P**

 **Now then, let's get on with it...**

* * *

The next morning, Maria woke up to the sound of rain hitting her window. She sat up and peeked through her curtains to see a wet grey morning beyond the glass. This was the kind of weather that made her want to go back to sleep and ignore the world, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she got up, dressed herself, and headed off to Integra's office.

Maria never reached the office, though, because she found the very people she was looking for in the corridor. Integra, Walter, and even Seras, were awake, and Maria felt her heart sink as soon as she noticed how they were dressed: Long, black gowns, black silk ties, and sombre expressions. They were going to a funeral.

"Good morning," Integra greeted her. "I was just on my way to tell you we're leaving."

"I see," Maria murmured.

"I would have asked you to come along as well, but considering your recent circumstances, I think it would be better if you stayed here."

The image of Katie's and Irene's coffins being lowered into the ground flashed in her mind. Maria swallowed down her sorrow and nodded. She knew she would not have been able to handle two funerals in a span of a fortnight. Mourning the fallen Hellsing guards would only remind her of her current predicament anyways.

"We'll return around dinner time," Integra continued. She stepped towards Maria and produced a small, square device from the folds of her raincoat. Maria stretched her hand out and accepted it, realizing after a minute that she was holding a cell phone.

"You'll be safe with Alucard in the building," Integra said. "Nevertheless, if there are any problems, my cell number and Walter's are already saved on this phone."

"I thank you."

"You're going to have to call Anderson on this cell, as well," Integra added. "I won't have Iscariot tracing back Hellsing's landline, so that's the only condition I am giving you with this phone."

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Maria was nearly knocked off her feet by an unexpected wave of outrage. Who was this girl to give her instructions like she was some kind of child? And the mention of Father Anderson and this Iscariot nonsense made her so angry that she almost snapped at Integra.

But, she had just been given a free phone, and she knew better than to react in anger to someone who was merely ignorant. Ashamed by the amount of effort she had to put in, Maria managed to push away her annoyance and nodded. If any suppressed rage showed through on her expression, Integra tacitly chose to ignore it.

"You may take whatever you like from the kitchen, and you're free to amuse yourself in the recreation room, but you're not to step foot into my office. Do you need anything before we leave?"

"No. I thank you, Sir Integra."

With that, the Hellsing leader, her butler, and the vampire left her and disappeared down the hallway. Maria stood there for a moment, gazing after them, wondering what she was going to do with herself. They would be gone, and Alucard would not be awake until nightfall. Her whole day was going to consist of waiting for someone to come keep her company. She could already feel the boredom and loneliness setting in.

She glanced down at the phone in her hand and grimaced. It had only been a few days since she spoke with Father Anderson, but it felt like she had not heard from him in weeks. And now she had to call him and lie convincingly over the phone. It was last thing Maria wanted to do, but she knew she had to get the nasty business out of the way eventually. When she was sure she was alone, the young woman flipped open the phone, dialled his number, and listened to the ringing with baited breath.

Before she was ready, a familiar, accented voice said, "Hello?" on the second ring.

"Ah… h-hi, Father," she stammered.

"Maria! Where have you been? I tried calling you twice yesterday, but there was no answer at your flat."

She felt her stomach drop from its usual place and settle somewhere around her toes. "Oh… did you? I'm so sorry, Father… I was… working late at the orphanage again."

"Don't you usually get off at seven or eight?"

"… Yes…"

"You know we usually talk every other day. You couldn't have made a quick call to let me know you're all right?"

Maria wanted desperately to tell him that it was because she had not been all right. She had been kidnapped, marched through a warzone, witnessed murder, confined to a stranger's house for her own protection, and began a relationship with a vampire. Phoning Anderson was the last thing on her mind, and anyone who knew her situation would have understood.

But, the priest did not know, and he would not understand. Keeping that in mind, Maria tamped down the urge to divulge the truth and adopted a penitent tone.

"You're right. I'm sorry, Father. I should have called you. But, I invested in a cell phone, so now I can call you even if I'm at work."

"You bought a cell? That's hardly a financially responsible thing to do, but if it means you can be reached easier, then I'll hold my judgement," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry," she said again, and after a pause added, "How are things at the Vatican? How is Enrico?"

They talked for a little while about the various happenings in the city, and Anderson caught Maria up on how everyone at the orphanage was doing. The conversation was so normal, so routine, but as she stood talking to her guardian in the middle of the grand, ornate hall of the Hellsing manor, Maria felt the familiar, gnawing pang of guilt in her stomach. How much longer was she going to lie to him before it drove her mad?

Eventually, Anderson had to go because he was expected to supervise the children at recess. When Maria hung up the phone, she waited for the sense of unease to subside within her, but it just kept roiling, making her feel slightly ill. She needed a distraction.

Maria's first instinct was to go back to her room and pray, but then she remembered the little paperback novel she had been reading. Last night, she had stopped at the part where Lucy was telling Mina about the three suitors she received in one day. Maria had found that bit rather boring, but the whole story had intrigued her nonetheless. She wanted to know what would happen next.

Promising herself that she would pray later, the young woman hurried back to her room, grabbed _Dracula_ from its place on her bedside table, and took it downstairs into the kitchen with her. She poured herself a bowl of cereal, settled into her usual place at the table, and read as she mindlessly shovelled cornflakes into her mouth.

With Lucy decided on a future husband, a gentleman by the name of Arthur Holmwood, Maria had to trudge through the diary of one of Lucy's jilted suitors. While trying to mend his broken heart, Dr. John Seward, the director of a lunatic asylum, detailed his study on a particularly strange patient named Mr. Renfield. The latter was so disturbing and eccentric, with his penchant for eating bugs and other horrible things, that Maria could hardly believe such a person existed. When he kept referencing his "master", she made a mental note to ask Alucard if Mr. Renfield had been a real person.

By the time she finally moved out of the kitchen and into the reading room on the main floor, Maria had read about Mina and Lucy's trip to Whitby, and suddenly envied the girls for being able to roam about wherever they wished. As she sat in the cozy room, she glanced out the window and tried to fend off a descending sense of isolation. She reminded herself that she was made to stay in this place for her own safety, but she could not completely dismiss the longing to be out and about in London again.

Maria's envy of the characters' freedom was soon dashed, though. With the arrival of a desecrated ship in Whitby and reports of a fearsome black dog roaming the countryside, Maria was filled with horror when Mina described waking up one night to find Lucy had sleepwalked her way outdoors. Gripping the edge of the book, Maria read on about how Mina had discovered her friend in the graveyard, slumped over a bench while some monstrous black wraith hovered over her. The description of the monster reminded Maria of the way Alucard had looked when he killed Luke Valentine, and she gave an involuntary shudder. She had not been able to make any connection between Count Dracula and Alucard the other day, but the fact that she could now made her uneasy. It was just another thing to ask him about when he woke up.

Hours went by, and Maria continued to read. She felt comfortable enough to recline on the sofa, holding the book up over her face, as she read about Lucy languishing, Seward trying to help her, and Mina fretting over both her friend's and her fiance's fates. It appeared that Alucard had placed them all in terrible situations, and she had to find out why.

She did not remember falling asleep, but when she woke up, there was a slight breeze fluttering over her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw Alucard hovering over her, waving Stoker's novel under her nose. With a start, she scrambled to sit up and tried to gather herself, but before she could say anything, he flipped the book around and glanced at the page she had left off at.

"You're a fast reader," he noted dryly.

Maria stifled a yawn and swung her legs over the edge of the sofa. "I was reading all day."

Alucard took a seat next to her and handed the book back. She placed it on the coffee table as he said, "If that's the case, then I suppose you have more questions for me."

Maria nodded and glanced out the window, noticing that the sun had decided to come out while she was asleep. The glowing yellow orb was low on the western horizon, which led her to believe it was late afternoon. Unable to help herself, she asked, "Do you not sleep either?"

With a soft laugh, Alucard slipped his thumb under her chin and turned her head towards him. His blood red eyes seemed to dance with a sort of guarded endearment, though Maria was unsure if it was just a trick of the light.

"You've stayed up late to keep my company," he said. "I figured I owed you the same courtesy."

Maria could feel herself blush at his words, but she tried to ignore her shyness. Smiling, she squeezed his other hand and replied, "I thank you. You are very kind."

"Well… We'll see, won't we?" he said with a somewhat rueful smile. He dropped his hand and threw a glance at the novel on the table. "What do you want to know?"

Maria remained quiet for a moment, trying to remember exactly what she had wanted to ask him as she was reading. She was afraid that her nap had wiped her memory clean before she blurted out, "Did you bite Lucy?"

Alucard's body stiffened when she spoke, and his face lost the softness and amiability that was there only seconds ago. Maria immediately regretted asking him and was about to apologize before he spoke.

"There was never a girl named Lucy," he started in a low voice. "There was a girl in Whitby, though, and yes, I did bite her. I had been on a ship for weeks without proper sustenance, and when she wandered into the graveyard, I didn't think; I merely acted."

Maria nodded slowly, digesting the information. She was suddenly seized with the urge to recoil from him, but she remembered Father Lowe's advice not to judge Alucard too harshly. This was what he was, after all.

"And Mina saved her?"

"Yes."

"Then, she is real?"

"She was real; she just wasn't named Lucy."

"I speak of Mina," Maria interjected. "She is real?"

Alucard fell silent once again, and Maria was certain that she had hit a nerve this time. There was something different about this reaction, though, something that Maria couldn't quite place, though it made her feel horrible. He slowly turned his head away from her and seemed to look far off into the distance, perhaps to another time, his expression a little too guarded to pass as neutral. Maria got the feeling that he was almost… sad?

"Yes," he replied at length. "Mina was an actual person."

Related questions instantly swam in the young woman's mind. Did that mean Mina wasn't engaged to anyone? What was her friend's real name? Why didn't Alucard go after Mina? Why did he act so strange when she was brought up? Maria wanted to know all of the answers, but she was beginning to feel like she was poking a hibernating bear with a cattle prod. She forced herself to drop the subject of Mina all together and told herself that more reading would satiate her curiosity.

"And, did you know Mr. Renfield?" she asked after an uneasy pause.

The uncharacteristic melancholia that had descended over Alucard seemed to lift immediately. With a shake of his head, he replied, "Not personally. I owned property by Seward's Aslyum, so I assume one of the patients must have seen me move in. I know that Stoker interviewed some of the lunatics there, and he probably took liberties with the information they gave him to create the character of Renfield."

"Bram Stoker knew John Seward?"

"He knew all of them. The very reason he wrote the book was because he was good friends with my first master."

The now-familiar sense of a waking dream began to permeate the room, and suddenly, Maria felt simultaneously incredulous and unsurprised. She thought she had seen everything after she discovered that vampires were real, but she would have never been able to anticipate just how real the story of _Dracula_ was. It reminded her of that conversation she had with Katie and Irene before everything happened, when Katie informed them that Stoker's villain had been a real person. As she gazed up at Alucard, she realized that the entity that sat next to her had not always been the blood-thirsty monster that Stoker knew. Even though Father Anderson had worked hard to keep her away from the entire horror subgenre, Maria knew that, according to the most basic vampire lore, every one of these monsters had been human beings at one point…

"Are you all right?" Alucard asked, breaking the silence. "You're staring."

She shook her head free of her musings, and shifted in her place, turning her body to face him. "I am sorry. I just want to understand…"

She trailed off, knowing that if she finished that sentence, the thin ice upon which she stood might crack. Her mind was bombarded by a new set of questions for Alucard, questions that went beyond the confines of the novel's pages and reached all the way back to the lavish courts and the mighty castles of a time gone by. She wanted to understand his history before he had come to England, before he had even become a vampire. She wanted to see if what Katie had told her was true and understand who Alucard really was.

She didn't say any of this, though, and Alucard did not press her. Instead, he shrugged and murmured, "You will, eventually."

That was probably all she was going to get out of him. Letting her curiosity go, Maria gave him a smile and rose from her seat. She picked up the book and murmured half to herself, "I have had enough for one day. I will put this away- Just a moment."

She made a move towards the door when she was stopped in her tracks. A pair of long arms snaked around her waist and gave her a tug. She gasped in surprise and fell back against Alucard, who had risen to his feet in almost total silence. His arms tightened around her, pressing her into him, and she felt his hair brush against her shoulder as he lowered his face to her ear.

"Leave it," he murmured. "You can bring it to your room later."

Maria's breath caught in her throat, and she shivered as he placed a gentle kiss behind her ear. Before she realized what he was doing, Alucard took the book from her and placed it on the couch. When he loosened his hold, she took the opportunity to turn around and face him, her gaze quickly clashing with his. With a small grin, Alucard ran his hands up the sides of her body, careful not to graze her breasts, and under her arms. Maria obeyed him and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing up on her toes to further her reach. The world went black as she closed her eyes, and she was certain she was spinning as she felt his lips brush hers, the promise of a kiss tantalizing her…

Suddenly, the click of an opening door shattered the fragile atmosphere. Maria's eyes flew open, and she and Alucard turned to see the door swinging closed with a definite thud. As they stood there, frozen in place, Maria could have sworn she heard the footfalls of the accidental intruder carrying them away from the reading room as quickly as possible.

Alucard sighed and let go of her. He stepped back and turned towards the door, shaking his head with a grin that looked both parts amused and irritated. "That girl… She has so much potential, but such little discretion…"

Maria did not have to ask to understand that he was talking about Seras. She looked down at her shoes when she felt her entire face burn up.

"Well…" she said after an uncomfortable silence, "I think they have returned from the funeral…"

Alucard chuckled as he stepped away from her and glided towards the door, the hem of duster billowing gently behind him. "And so it would seem... Shall we go say hello?"

Maria nearly cringed at the thought of facing Seras so soon after being walked in on, but avoiding her and the others altogether would simply be rude. With a little nod, she followed Alucard to the door and reached out to grab the handle. Before she could open the door, though, he caught her face between his hands and planted a small kiss on her forehead. Maria closed her eyes and let the warmth of his kiss spread through her face, returning his smile before he opened the door for her.

As she stepped through, Maria tried not to feel disappointed with what had just happened. It was not Seras' fault for interrupting them, but it was hard not to feel bad about having their personal time cut short. The kiss on the forehead was nice, but Maria had been hoping for more.

As disappointed as she was, though, she tried to ignore the feeling as best as she could and followed Alucard down the hall in silence. There would be plenty of time later, she told herself, even though she knew her lust was unbecoming. She merely tried to ignore it and focused on going to greet her hostess.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Later that night, Sir Integra Hellsing found herself sitting in her office, hunched over her desk, signing a letter to the Vatican. In it, she explained the situation with Maria Sartori and demanded a meeting to rectify the problem, along with the countless other issues Iscariot had caused Hellsing as of late. After proof reading the letter, she sealed it in an envelope and addressed it immediately so that she would not forget. Setting it aside, she straightened and looked at the clock on the wall. It was ten at night, and Maria had gone to bed an hour ago. She frowned and rose from her place behind the desk. She was about to make a move to leave, when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Leaving so soon, Integra?"

The young woman turned to see the half-emerged form of her most loyal servant poking out of the wall. She watched him step through and take off his hat to her. Glancing up at her through his dark bangs, Alucard shot her a smug little grin, and she immediately wished to wipe it off. She wasn't happy with him, and she was in no mood return the smile.

"I was actually on my way to find you," she replied crossly. "We need to talk."

"Oh?"

That grin disappeared as soon as he heard the tone of her voice. Integra considered softening her approach, but she did not want to understate the severity of what they had to discuss. Still, she had been so wrapped up in her work that she had not given much thought to how she was going to approach this subject. Sighing, she sat back down and lit herself a cigar.

"It's about Miss Sartori…"

Through the haze of smoke, Integra saw the remnants of Alucard's good mood fall from his face. A slight frown settled into the corners of his mouth, and Integra tried not to feel bad. As the queen of her own castle, she wanted nothing more than for her servants to be content, but this had to be said. She had seen the way Seras came running back to her and Walter when they returned from the funeral, a vibrant blush colouring her cheeks. When Integra greeted Maria and saw the same uneasiness in her face, there was no doubt in Integra's mind about what had been going on while she was away.

"I want to make clear that I have no interest in your personal life. What you do on your own time is no concern of mine," she started. "But, when it involves someone in as volatile a position as Maria's, then I have cause to address it with you."

She paused, but Alucard remained silent. Integra had the feeling that he was only biting his tongue because he could read the discomfort in her face, despite her efforts to go about this with confidence. Determined to rise to the occasion, she leaned back and looked him straight in the eye.

"I know what she thinks of you, that much is obvious, but I'd expect a bit of prudence from you. She isn't a plaything, Alucard. She's in real danger, and above that, she's Anderson's ward. I don't know what Iscariot will do when they read my letter, much less what Anderson will do if he hears you've been sneaking around with her."

That familiar smirk threatened to break the surface of Alucard's face again. "Alexander Anderson doesn't threaten me," he said. "In fact, I think it'd be amusing to see his reaction if he knew what his little Maria has been up to."

Integra took a drag of her cigar and forcefully blew the smoke from her nostrils, narrowing her eyes at her servant. "And that's exactly why I'm telling you to be careful with this girl. You might think it's funny to provoke Anderson, but the last thing we need to give Iscariot is another reason to antagonize us. I can't say exactly how they'll receive the news that a Catholic is in our care, but I do know that they will not be happy about it. Furthermore, we don't know where Maria's loyalties lie, and once she leaves these walls, I will not have her telling Anderson things about you or the Hellsing organization."

A heavy silence crashed around them, broken only by the meticulous ticking of the clock. Alucard did not move a muscle, his expression hidden behind his tinted glasses. Integra sensed that he wanted to say something contrary to what she had just told him, and yet, he did not say a word. He knew better than to defy her. With a sigh, she mashed the cigar into the ash tray on her desk and leaned forward on her elbows.

"I'm not telling you to avoid her," she said after a moment of thought. "However, I am telling you to be cautious. Don't forget where she's come from, what she's been through, and who she knows. This situation is complicated enough."

Surely she was not being unfair? Integra trusted Alucard, but if history was any indication, it was clear that his Achilles heel rested in the pretty face of a young woman. The Hellsing leader wanted to ensure the mountain of problems she was faced with did not suddenly collapse on top her because of something as stupid as an affair between the vampire and the Italian girl.

After an uneasy silence, Alucard bowed his head to her and said, "I understand. Whatever concerns you have, I will lay them to rest. My loyalty lies with Hellsing and you, my master. The 'situation', as you call it, is mine to control, and I will not allow anything to cloud my judgement."

Integra did not doubt his authenticity, but the last time this happened, he had not been in control. In fact, he had had the control wrested away from him by her own great-grandfather. Many decades had passed since that fateful incident, and the years had undoubtedly changed Alucard. And yet, the few true passage from Bram Stoker's classic danced in her mind, and Integra could not shake the sense of déjà vu prompted by her servant's interest in the little Catholic girl.

There was not much more she could do or say, though. Alucard and Maria were going to make their own decisions, and she could not police them. She could only suggest and warn. She had hoped that this conversation with Alucard would have resolved the conflict that nagged at her, but it only seemed to worsen it. Deciding that she had dealt with enough for that night, she pushed her chair back and rose to her feet for a second time.

"I know I can trust you," she said. "I simply wished to make myself clear: Be careful, Alucard."

The vampire straightened and placed his hat back on his head. Flashing his master a broad smile, he replied, "Your wish is my command, Integra."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

" _Per carita_!"

Maria sighed and tossed her copy of _Dracula_ onto her bed, almost glaring at the little paperback. She had not anticipated getting fed up with the story, but it appeared that was exactly what was going to happen this morning. She had trudged through one too many pages of Lucy's various suitors giving her blood transfusions, and she was beginning to get annoyed with the men. How many times were they going to do the procedure if it was not working? She decided after a few more tries that she was no longer interested, and opted to take a shower instead.

As she lathered shampoo into her hair, she caught herself wondering what it must have been like for Lucy- whose name was not actually Lucy- to be bitten by a vampire. No doubt it hurt, but she got the impression from Stoker's words that the bite was not altogether unpleasant. Even she had to admit, there was something primal and thrilling about the idea of someone placing their mouth on your neck and sinking their teeth into your flesh.

Maria lowered her hand from her head and absentmindedly ran a soapy forefinger along her jugular vein. She felt the pulse against her fingertip and wondered briefly what it would be like if Alucard bit her. She closed her eyes and imagined him standing there in the enclosed space with her, pulling her against him and sinking his teeth into her flesh, driven by an otherworldly desire she barely understood.

Her eyes flew open with a gasp, and she immediately dashed the thought from her mind. How could she think of him that way? Alucard was someone who she both admired and trusted... No matter what he had done in his past, she told herself that he would never attack innocent people nowadays. Frowning, she set to rinsing her hair with more vigour than was required. It was too early to think of silly thoughts like that.

When she was finished in the shower, Maria dried off, combed her hair, and chose an outfit for the day. She was standing by her bed, fastening the last button on her blouse when she heard a rather rushed exchange outside her room.

"I really wouldn't recommend it- They may be mercenaries, but even the bravest human would need to warm up to the idea first."

Maria inclined her head. Was that Walter she heard?

A second voice replied, "If every strange thing in this world required humans to 'warm up' to it, then we'd never get anything done."

Her heart leapt when she recognized the second voice as Alucard's. Forgetting that her hair was still wet, she hurried over to the door and opened it a crack. She peeked out to see her prince striding down the hall, away from her room, with Walter trailing after him.

"Look, if this is about Miss Victoria, I'm sure she'll be fine," the butler insisted. "She was able to hold her ground against a horde of ghouls; I'm fairly certain she can handle a few men."

Maria stepped out of her room and watched them. Alucard never broke his pace, keeping his eyes fixated on the way ahead of him as he said, "You're not going to dissuade me, Walter. You might as well give up now."

"What… What is happening?" Maria ventured, taking a few steps to follow them. At the sound of her voice, Walter stopped and glanced over his shoulder. When his eyes settled on her, he turned on his heel and bowed his head to her.

"Good morning, Miss Sartori. I'm terribly sorry if we've disturbed you."

"You did not." Maria looked past Walter and furrowed her brow when Alucard did not stop to greet her. "Is there something wrong?"

"Ah, no, there isn't anything wrong, per se," Walter said, though his taut face and fidgety hands told her otherwise. "We've replaced the fallen Hellsing guards with a band of mercenaries, and today's their orientation."

"Mer-sen-ries?" Maria repeated, accidentally imitating his English accent. "What is that?"

"They're professional soldiers," Walter explained quickly. "Sir Integra is with them right now, and…"

He trailed off when he glanced over his shoulder. Maria followed his gaze and realized that Alucard had disappeared. Before she could ask what the panic was about, Walter sighed and turned back to her.

"Do forgive me, but I have to go after him," he said. With that, the butler broke into a jog and hurried down the hallway.

Not wanting to be left out, Maria picked up her skirt and dashed after the butler. She followed him down the hallway and up the stairs, simultaneously impressed with his agility and confused by his anxiety. What was so bad about Alucard going to see the soldiers? Who were these people? Was Seras in trouble?

Walter led her down another landing and up to a pair of heavy double doors, where Integra stood in the threshold with her back facing them. Maria was panting by the time Walter slowed down. However, over the noise of her own breaths and the chatter from beyond the doors, she could hear Alucard's voice.

Walter ran up beside Integra, and Maria skidded to a halt just behind him. She stood on the tips of her toes, trying to see into the drawing room, as the butler apologized to his employer.

"My deepest apologies, ma'am. I did try to stop him…"

"These men are going to be guarding me as I sleep," Maria heard Alucard say. "I wanted to take their measure."

The drawing room was crowded with some of the most intimidating men Maria had ever seen in her life. Many were clad in camouflage pants and bulletproof vests. More than a few of them wore a weapon, ranging from a small pocket knife to a rifle slung over one shoulder. Upon first glance, Maria immediately decided these were not men she wanted to tangle with, but the longer she looked at them, the quicker she realized that, despite their tough exteriors, the men looked positively terrified. They were either looking at Alucard, who was standing off to the side of the room with a flustered-looking Seras, or at a man who was sitting in the middle of the room in a kind of stupor. He was a broad-shouldered, red-haired man with an eye patch over his left eye, and a trail of blood streaming from his forehead.

Maria stared at the spectacle before her, trying to comprehend what exactly had been going on, when Walter spoke again and distracted her.

"Now that introductions are over…" He reached into his back pocket and produced a creamy white envelope. "A most unusual letter arrived in the post today."

Integra accepted the envelope and muttered, "What sort of letter?"

Maria watched as the heiress scanned the return address and was alarmed to see her eyes widen in surprise. "From Vatican Special Operations, Division Thirteen… The Iscariot Organization- Enrico Maxwell!"

Maria's heart stuttered to a halt when she heard that name. She felt her knees weaken, and for a terrible instant, the world tipped sideways. She must have made a sound, because Walter turned to her and asked, "Are you well, Miss Sartori? You're awfully pale."

She tried to reply to him, but her mouth had gone dry. When Integra caught her eye, Maria managed to say, "Enrico Maxwell…? That is the name on the letter?"

"Yes," Integra said, cocking an eyebrow at her. "What is it? Don't tell me you know Enrico Maxwell too."

"I… I know a person by that name. We lived in the orphanage..."

Integra frowned and glanced down at the envelope in her hands. "Well, it appears your friend heads Iscariot now."

"He is not my friend," Maria said quickly. If there was anyone in the world who she had wished to avoid as a child, it was Maxwell. He was constantly frowning, never wanted to interact with the other children, and often got into fights with those who approached him. Maria had been secretly glad when he left the orphanage, but she never expected to encounter him again in this way.

With her gaze fashioned on the letter, she heard herself asking, "May I see it?"

"You most certainly cannot," Integra retorted. "This is confidential information. I will inform you of what you need to know after I've read the letter."

"I speak of the envelope," Maria replied. "Does it truly say 'Enrico Maxwell'?"

Integra eyed her warily, as if she was scared that Maria would see the content of the correspondence through the envelope. After what felt like forever, the heiress hesitantly turned the letter over in her hand and held it up to Maria's eye level. Sure enough, the name 'Enrico Maxwell' was scrawled at the bottom of the sealed envelope. Maria's breath caught in her throat. It couldn't be true. Maxwell could not have headed an organization that she did not believe existed.

As if she had heard her thoughts, Integra said in a low voice, "I know you're very resistant to the idea of anything like this in your Vatican existing. But here's the proof."

Maria did not like the way Integra said "your Vatican", as if she had some kind of chip on her shoulder that was unique to Anglicans. But, she was too shocked to feel offended by her tone. The words "Iscariot" and "Enrico Maxwell" danced before her eyes, as if they were a mirage. But the most terrible thing about this, Maria thought, was that it was not an illusion at all.

Integra tucked the letter in her back pocket and imparted a few final words to the mercenaries in the drawing room. Suddenly feeling very out of place, Maria pivoted and began to walk back the way she had come. Staring at her feet, she thought about what had just occurred, trying to quell the wave of panic that was rising up within her.

Aside from the incredibly disturbing fact that the words "Iscariot Organization" were written on an official Vatican letter, Maria could not wrap her mind around the idea of Maxwell heading a department like that. If she accepted the idea that Iscariot existed, then someone else had to be in charge of it. If she remembered correctly, Maxwell was now a bishop, and he had been working with Father Anderson to open that new orphanage in Northern Ireland. Father Anderson had even said so.

But, even as she told herself this, she could not stop the small, parasitic sense of doubt from eating away at her rationalization.

As she descended the stairs, she allowed herself to hypothesize: What if everything Integra and Alucard had told her was true? What if Iscariot was headed by Maxwell, and Father Anderson really was their best agent? She shuddered violently when she realized that it would mean that Anderson had lied to her for most of her life. She tried her hardest to imagine her dear guardian cutting down a ghoul without so much of an ounce of sympathy, but she simply could not do it. Like she had been telling everyone, Father Anderson was not a fighter. It was simply not in his nature.

Still, that did not help to explain why there was any mention of Iscariot in a Vatican correspondence in the first place.

She dragged her feet down the hallway, dwelling on the worrisome information, until reached her bedroom. She was just about to open the door when a deep, purring voice stopped her.

"Why did you leave?"

Maria turned to see Alucard standing behind her. She turned towards him, but kept her eyes trained on the ground, frightened of what he might read in her expression if she were to look at him.

"That letter came," she murmured. "It is... strange..."

"I wouldn't say so," Alucard offered. "Every organization needs a leader. This one just happens to be someone that you know."

"But, it is..." She hesitated, shying away from the words that had caused her so much grief and anxiety over the past few days. "It is the organization 'Iscariot'... The one that you and Sir Integra speak of."

Alucard stepped towards her. "Yes, it is," he replied. "Now you see that none of us were lying, don't you? I told you earlier that secrets never stay secrets."

Maria heaved a sigh and let her head bow under the weight of her confusion. Her forehead bumped against Alucard's chest, and she let herself stay there. Her mind was racing, and she barely felt his arms wrap around her shoulders.

"Don't be so upset," he said. "I can understand your shock, but this is the way things are. You need to accept it."

Maria closed her eyes and tried to find some comfort in his words and his embrace. She had been theorizing before, but when she heard the same words out of Alucard's mouth, the desire to defend her priest and her fellow Catholics rose within her anew. Screwing up her face in determination, she muttered in a hollow voice, "I... I do not say I accept this."

Alucard did not say anything back, but his whole demeanour changed. Maria could feel it in the way his arms stiffened around her, the silence that hung between them, and the sense of unease that descended upon the hallway. She drew away from him and looked up at him, summoning all her courage.

"I see that the Vatican has wrote to Hellsing," she continued. "I see that there is something named Iscariot, and I see Enrico's name on the letter, but this means nothing."

"What are you talking about?" Alucard demanded, loosening his arms and letting them drop to his sides. "This letter proves everything we've been saying to you for days."

Maria shook her head, trying to ignore her racing heart. "All that I see is words on a paper. This proves nothing about Enrico, and it does not prove things about Father Anderson either."

Alucard stared at her for a beat for looking away and uttering a disparaging grunt . Maria could just imagine him rolling his eyes behind the his glasses, and her fear suddenly transformed into anger. Unable to quell her feelings this time, she blurted out, "I can think what I wish. Any person could have wrote that letter and signed with Enrico Maxwell's name. It means nothing."

"Stop deluding yourself, Maria," Alucard said shortly. "I know for a fact that Iscariot is headed by Maxwell, and Anderson is their trump card. Do you honestly think I invented that story about Badrick?"

"I-"

"I know exactly what that letter is going to say," he continued, his tone growing colder with each word. "Iscariot will acknowledge the troubles that your priest has caused Hellsing, and they'll either wish to make amends or continue these turf wars. And, knowing how they are, the latter is almost certainly assured."

Maria was frozen, rooted to the ground, and could not think of anything else to say besides, "You did not read the letter!"

"I don't have to," Alucard snapped. "I know what it's going to say because I was there when your priest decapitated me and stabbed my servant with blessed blades."

A gasp escaped Maria's mouth. She clapped her hands over her lips and stepped away from him, her back hitting the door. She remembered how Seras had refused to go into the church with her earlier that week, and the doubt she had been fighting before reared its head again. But, something about Alucard's terrible anecdote did not make sense...

"You still have your head," she ventured, her voice quavering.

Alucard sighed and took off his glasses. Maria was unsurprised to see the threat of a storm brewing in his eyes, but it did not make her feel any less frightened.

"Real vampires aren't defeated by decapitation alone. It takes a lot more than that to kill me."

Slowly, he took her hands and lowered them from her face. "Maria, I can understand if this news is upsetting to you, but it's not going to change anything. This is your reality now; living in denial isn't going to work anymore."

A heavy silence crashed around them. Maria's stomach twisted as the threat of a fight danced around them. A part of her simply wanted to kiss him on the cheek and agree with everything he had said, just to avoid an argument. They both appeared to be having bad days, and it was better to forgive and forget. But, something new had risen in her mind to bother her, something she could not ignore...

"Tell me," she began. "Did Integra send the Vatican a letter? The one about me?"

Alucard shook his head. "She composed the message yesterday, but she didn't send it. It was still sitting on her desk when I spoke to her last night."

Maria nodded slowly, hardly daring to draw breath. As she moved her head, the walls appeared to dance, and the carpet seemed to gyrate underneath her, like there was a great beast agitating to break through from beneath the floorboards. If Integra had not sent to the papacy already, then why did the Vatican contact Hellsing in the first place? Maria had assumed that the correspondence was about her, but in fact, it was not. Suddenly, Alucard's story about Badrick sounded a lot more plausible...

Maria threw the idea out immediately. She shut the door that had been standing ajar in her mind, refusing to pull it back and step over the threshold into another possibility. The implications were too great, too horrible for her to consider. She found herself shaking her head, saying to herself, "I do not believe it. I do not."

Alucard heaved a sigh and straightened up. He unfolded his glasses and slipped them onto the bridge of his nose again.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "If all you're going to do is act like a child, then I'm going back to bed."

Maria opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly drowned her words out with a fleeting and careless kiss. It was over as quickly as it had started, and before Maria could regain her bearings, Alucard was striding down the hallway. He threw a glance over his shoulder and said, "Goodnight, _signorina._ Believe what you will, but it'll only disappoint you more in the end."

Maria watched him go, too stunned to try to stop him, until he was out of sight. When she was completely alone, a terrible feeling began to eat away at her gut, and she merely stood there, back against the door, trying to comprehend what exactly had just happened. A letter from the Vatican had arrived, she was confused, and now Alucard was angry with her. Some day this had turned out to be.

Heaving a sigh, Maria let herself into her room and flopped onto her bed. She tried to stay as far away from that door she had closed in her mind, and instead dwelt on the superficial things that Alucard had said to her. She was not acting like a child; he was being insensitive. She was not living in denial; he was just mistaken. Either that, or he was the one who was lying to her, and that just made Maria feel worse.

After a good bout of moping, she decided she was not going to think about anything that had happened before she entered her room. Instead, she grabbed her copy of _Dracula_ , and set to reading, pretending that there was nothing amiss in the Hellsing household.

And yet, even as nineteenth century medicine continued to fail Lucy, Maria could not concentrate on her plight. She saw the words on the page, but she did not read them. Her argument with Alucard continued to replay in the back of her mind, growing louder and louder with each page she turned. The business with the letter was also getting harder to ignore, and when she closed her eyes to take a nap, all she saw was the signature of Enrico Maxwell and the Vatican seal.

The physical and emotional exhaustion she had been battling all week did not stop her from falling asleep. But, Maria's nap was a fitful one, haunted by too-recent memories and the shadowy manifestations of her own fears. Even as she slept, she had to wonder whether she would ever have peaceful dreams again, or if the chaotic mess that was now her life had destroyed that possibility for her as well.

* * *

 **As per usual...**

 **"Per carita" = literally means "for charity", but it's also an expression similar to "come on!" or "please!" in English (ie. it's an expression of annoyance or impatience)**

 **I suppose this chapter was rather quiet, but don't be fooled... It's the calm before the storm! Thanks a lot for reading, guys! Until next time, stay gold ;)**


	11. A Wolf in Sheepskins

**Hello, everyone! Somehow, I managed to complete this chapter during a very busy week...But, I can't really tell if that's because I'm good at time management, or because my priorities are strangely ordered :P**

 **Anywho, I have to thank the two guests and xxyangxx2006 for the reviews. They were really encouraging and made me even more determined to write! And, of course, many thanks to the people who favourite, follow, and read on their own time :)**

 **And before we begin, just to let you guys know, this is another "song-inspired" chapter. While I was writing, I was listening to the song "Snakes" by Voltaire... Which is actually a song about a jealous lover, but if you squint, and perhaps turn your head to one side, it could sound like an overprotective father giving his daughter hell for seeing someone he doesn't approve of... Whoops, there goes a spoiler...**

* * *

Later that night, Integra called Maria into her office. The young woman went quietly and obediently. It had been a few hours since her argument with Alucard, and she was feeling drained. If Integra wanted to talk to her about the damnable letter, she could. Maria did not care anymore.

"The correspondence from the Vatican came in before I had a chance to mail my letter about you," Integra explained from behind the desk. "As such, they still don't know you're here, but Enrico Maxwell wishes to meet me so that we can sort out some of the problems we've been encountering lately."

Maria nodded, her gaze on the floor. "All right."

"This letter came rather late, because he's requesting to meet tomorrow afternoon at the National Portrait Gallery," she continued. "Walter and I will go, but I plan on taking you, Seras, and Alucard with me. Once the official business is over and done with, I'll explain your situation and see what can be done. Does that sound fair?"

A defiant little voice in Maria's mind shouted that this was not fair at all. It was not fair to be constantly bombarded with something that could upend your whole world. Maria felt like she did not deserve the constant confusion and the ever-present sense that someone was being lied to.

Still, she did not have the energy to voice these thoughts. It was easier to merely let fate take its course, and whatever the outcome, she would go along for the ride.

Maria went to bed early that night when it became clear to her that Alucard was not going to visit her. As she lay under her covers, she tried not to feel hurt by his avoidance. What would she have said to him? Nothing had changed since they parted ways in the hall. It was better that he stayed away and let her cool off. She had a feeling this whole ordeal would be resolved by three o' clock tomorrow afternoon anyway, for better or for worse.

The next day, Maria wasted the morning away by cleaning up her room and changing her outfit every thirty seconds. No one had come to see her except for Walter, who had kindly brought her some breakfast on a tray. She assumed that Integra was working, and Alucard and Seras were trying to make the most of their short rest. She spent most of the afternoon saying her prayers and staring out the window until Walter returned to fetch her. It was time to go to the museum.

As she sat in the backseat of the car with Seras, Maria's hands began to shake. The closer they got to the museum, the worse the tremors became. She swallowed with some difficulty, her dry throat painfully constricting, and wondered who would be waiting at the meeting place for them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she entertained the idea of Enrico Maxwell actually showing up, but she pushed the thought away immediately. She could not think like that. If she did, she feared she would go mad before they reached their destination.

Before she was ready, Maria suddenly found herself parked in front of the National Portrait Gallery, and everyone was climbing out of the car. Drawing in a deep breath, she made herself get out of the vehicle as well and followed the Hellsing members inside.

As they made their way down a bright, airy corridor, Maria kept an eye out for anyone in official Vatican robes. She felt like she was on the hunt for someone, although she had the sneaking suspicion that she was, in fact, the prey.

The small group came to a halt by a towering painting of a bloodied battleground at sundown. Maria gazed up the immense work of art, drawn in by its terrible beauty, until Integra recaptured her attention.

"I need you to keep out of sight for a moment. Seras will go with you," she said. "We'll deal with the issues pertaining to Badrick and Millennium first, and when the time is right, you can rejoin us. I don't want the Vatican seeing us with a Catholic immediately. It could worsen an already uncomfortable situation."

Maria nearly cried out in frustration. She had been anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Vatican agents, and now she had to go away? She understood Integra's reasoning, but she wasn't sure how much more waiting she would be able to bear.

Nevertheless, she murmured, "Yes, Sir Integra" before taking her leave with Alucard's servant. They turned the corner and walked down the hall, the battleground painting staring at their backs. Maria gazed at the portraits as they went, and when they turned down a hallway on their right, she murmured, "Seras, do you know where is Alucard?"

The little blonde vampire glanced at Maria. "My master? Ah… I don't know… I figured he would be here…"

Maria frowned and looked down at the floor. "Yes… I thought that, too."

They both fell silent and continued to walk, the murmuring of a conversation from the next gallery over breaking the serenity. Maria wanted to run back and see who Integra was speaking with, but she had orders to obey.

All of a sudden, someone's voice rose in anger. Seras and Maria stopped in their tracks, just in time to hear a heavily accented voice shout in English, "Would you _shut up!?_ "

The two girls looked at each other for a beat before turning on their heels and racing back the way they came. Seras was faster than Maria, and she skidded to a halt at the end of the corridor. Maria followed her and peeked around the corner. Her position afforded her a skewed view of the gallery she had just left: She could not see Integra, as she was hidden behind the wall, but she could clearly see a man, who she immediately recognized as Enrico Maxwell.

"Two men? If we had slaughtered two million of you Protestant scum, I would not have shed a tear," he was saying. "I'm here on the direct order of His Holiness, otherwise I would not bother with you filthy creatures."

Maxwell had aged terribly since the last time Maria saw him. He was only five years her senior, but he was already sporting frown lines that she could see across the hallway. She stared at him, trying desperately to hold onto this inconsequential observation as the truth slowly and painfully sunk in: Her old childhood acquaintance really had written the letter, and he really did know about Hellsing.

The girl watched, stupefied, as Maxwell leered at Integra, his face twisting into a horrible, mocking grimace.

"So just shut up and pay attention, you miserable English sow!"

Seras gasped, and Maria let her mouth fall open. Years had passed, and he was still as uncouth and condescending as ever. She felt like she should not have been surprised, but she was.

"A sow?"

A new voice floated into her ears from beyond the wall, somewhere around where Integra should have been standing. Maria drew in a sudden breath when she recognized the voice as Alucard's. As if pushed by an unseen entity, she crept from her hiding place and stood in the middle of the corridor, craning her neck to see Alucard standing behind his master.

"Maria," Seras whispered as she caught the sleeve of her companion's cardigan. "Be careful!"

Maria barely heard her, though. She was deaf to the world, preoccupied only with what was unfolding before her.

"Nothing like Iscariot to inspire the fear of God… Such fearsome insults!" Alucard said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Two thousand years of your inane prattle… Truly, some things never do seem to change…"

Maxwell offered him a wry smile. "The great vampire Alucard! The Hellsing family's pet creature! I don't believe I've ever seen you in person before." He bent at the waist in a mocking bow. "It's a great pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," Alucard said. "And now, I must say goodbye."

He reached into the folds of his coat and produced that silver pistol Maria had seen more times than she would have liked. "You call my master a sow and expect me to let you live? I'm afraid I'm just going to have to put a bullet in you, you foolish little man."

Maria's heart skipped a beat. She was outraged that Enrico Maxwell was even there, but she did not want his blood to be shed. She had seen enough violence to last her a few lifetimes.

Maxwell did not seem the least bit intimidated, though. Eyeing the gun with amusement, he said, "Oh, how absolutely terrifying... How can a man be expected to deal with people who put a gun in his face? I think you'll agree that turnabout is fair play."

Turnabout? Fair play? Maria had no idea what these expressions meant.

"So, why don't we make this fight interesting?"

The girl's blood ran cold. What was going to happen? Was there going to be another shoot out? Maria watched with baited breath, her thoughts racing. With a snap of his fingers, Maxwell threw his head over his shoulder and called out one single, devastating word.

" _Anderson!_ "

His voice echoed through the gallery, unmistakable, like a death knell. Maria heard the name over and over again in her head, growing louder with each repetition. She saw the walls she had built around herself crumble, felt that door in her mind burst open against her will. For a horrible moment, she had the sensation that she was falling, as if someone had dragged her to the precipice of a seaside cliff and kicked her off the edge. The moment when she hit the water was when she heard a familiar, booming voice from the opposite end of the gallery.

" _Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance._ "

That was Pslam 2:8. Maria knew that passage, but it had never drummed up such fear, such disbelief, within her. She turned her head slowly, terrified of what she might see. The thud of heavy boots drew near, and the sound of metal rattling rose up into the air around them. The man with Father Anderson's voice continued to spout out Bible verses.

"... _Thou shalt dash them in pieces, like a potter's vessel. Be wise, therefore, ye kings; be admonished, ye judges of the Earth... Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice in trembling..._ "

Finally, the fiend entered Maria's field of vision. When she laid eyes upon him, she uttered a horrified gasp.

It was Father Anderson, but not as she knew him. This man's face was twisted and made ugly by pure, unadultered hatred, a murderous gleam flashing in his cold green eyes. He marched forward, hunched like some half-beast, and from each hand hung two pairs of bayonets, like long, deadly claws. He was a monster, and down to the deepest and darkest recesses of her soul, Maria was terrified.

She barely noticed that Maxwell was trying to calm him down, but she did see Anderson push the bishop out of the way. His horrendous gaze was fixated on Alucard, who had moved up and placed himself in front of Integra.

Maria wanted to tell herself that she was dreaming. This was a cruel nightmare that her subconscious had dredged up, and it would be over soon. She just had to wake up. But the light that reflected off of Anderson's bayonets was too bright, and his voice was too loud...

"Iscariot does not shirk when the enemy presents itself!"

That was it. She heard it, straight from her guardian's mouth. He knew about Iscariot. He truly was one of them, and he really had been lying to her. Maria watched Alucard pull out a second gun, and Anderson raised his blades. The two men in her vision grew blurry, and it was only then that she realized she was crying.

"My god," Seras said from beside Maria. "They're going to kill each other!"

With that, the blonde dashed off down the hallway. Maria could not follow her even if she wanted to, because Alucard began laughing, his pistols aimed directly at Anderson's face.

"Neither of us could ever back down in front of an enemy. _Come on, then, Judas' priest!_ "

The kenning sent an icy chill down Maria's spine. Something was building up within her, and the longer she watched this ghastly spectacle unfold, the harder it became to tamp down. She bit down hard on her lip and balled her hands up into fists.

"You won't be so lucky this time, vampire," Anderson replied with an icy laugh.

Her chest felt tight. She opened her mouth, but she wasn't sure if she was going to sob, gasp, or vomit.

"Stop!" Maxwell shouted. "I'm ordering you to stop!"

" _FATHER, NO!_ "

A terrible scream ripped from Maria's throat by no will of her own. At the sound of her voice, she saw Anderson turn his head, but then-

"Hii-ii!"

Seemingly out of nowhere, Seras leapt in front of Maria and blocked her from Anderson's gaze. Without warning, the Catholic girl founder herself lost in a sea of elderly Japanese tourists. Maria watched incredulously as Seras, who was dressed in a tour guide's uniform, led the herd of seniors right between Alucard and Anderson. The two belligerents froze, their weapons raised but immobile.

After a moment of complete inaction, Alucard lowered his guns and said, "This isn't the time or place for a fight."

"Yes," Anderson agreed, "you may have a point."

The two men stowed away their weapons and turned their backs on each other. Maria faintly heard Alucard announcing that he was going back to bed, but she was more preoccupied with the direction Anderson was headed in. Seras' intervention had broken the spell on her, sobered her, and now there was only one lucid thought in her mind.

Wasting no time, Maria broke into a run and headed down the hallway opposite hers and Seras' hiding place. She knew that if she turned the next corner and made her way up the hallway, she would run into Anderson.

Maria dashed through the corridors and stumbled into the gallery. When she faltered, she considered turning back, as she was unsure if she could handle this, but it was too late now. Standing a few feet from her was Father Anderson, halted in his tracks and gaping at the girl who had just thrown herself into his path.

"Maria…?"

The girl froze at the sound of her name. The dumbstruck expression on the priest's face made him look so unassuming and concerned that she could almost recognize her guardian again. But, Maria had not forgotten what she had seen only moments ago. She clenched her fists and tried to summon all of her courage, though tears continued to run down her cheeks.

"You…" she choked. "You're a l-liar."

A wave of sorrow rose up in her belly, threatening to push a loud sob from her throat, but she didn't let it. She clamped her lips shut and let her chest spasm. She never took her eyes off of Anderson, who, after a beat, began to move towards her.

"Maria-"

"Don't come near me," she said shrilly.

Anderson came to an abrupt halt, though he unconsciously leaned in towards her. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Why're you acting like a bloody lunatic?"

She let out a little hiccup, and dragged her sleeve across her eyes. "I-I could say the same about you," she countered.

He gaped at her. "Would you like to say that again, child?"

Maria glared at him, the rage she had been tamping down all week suddenly bursting through to the surface of her being. "I saw what you did- I saw it, just now. Y-You had your... I heard you say it! I-I heard the words straight out of your mouth!"

"What words?" Anderson asked, his angry voice echoing through the gallery. Maria squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cringe at the bitter taste in her mouth.

"Iscariot," she spat. "I heard you say Iscariot." She choked out a pathetic sob and shook her head. "I thought they were lying to me... I thought they were mistaken, but it was you who was l-lying to me all along…"

The moment the word 'Iscariot' left her mouth, Anderson closed the gap between them, his arms swinging as he walked. He grabbed Maria by the shoulders and forced her to look him in the eye. Maria obliged, though the expression he wore reminded her too much of the monster she had seen earlier, and she suddenly felt like crying for help.

"Enough," he snarled. "What on earth are you talking about? Who is 'they'?"

Maria's mouth fell open, but the words would not come. Anderson's glare bored into her, and his grip was too tight. Despite her terror, she could feel an answer being squeezed out of her.

"H... Hellsing," she managed.

They fell silent. Maria stared up at Anderson, who looked as if she had just confessed murder to him. She looked away from him and sobbed, which seemed to set him off.

"Hellsing? How in God's name do you know about Hellsing!?" he roared.

Maria clamped her mouth shut and swallowed down a sob. She did not want to answer him; she wanted to run and hide.

"Why are you here?" Anderson hammered away at her, his grip threatening to crush her bones. "Are you here because of Hellsing?"

Maria shut her eyes and wailed, "Yes! Yes, they did! Please, stop- You're hurting me."

Anderson loosened his hold on her, but his expression was still expectant. Maria struggled with her words, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

"Hellsing brought me here to let the Vatican know I'm with them," she explained breathlessly. "It was all an accident- I swear, I didn't mean for this to happen!"

A middle aged couple walked by. They seemed to have been distracted by all the shouting, as they glanced disapprovingly at Anderson and Maria before moving away. Anderson caught their gaze and reluctantly released the young woman.

"What business do you have with the Hellsing Organization, Maria?" he pressed. "What accident are you talking about?"

Maria stepped back and glared at him. "And why should I tell you? You have not been honest with me."

Anderson blinked, momentarily taken aback. Maria tried to maintain her icy stare, but it began to waver as soon as she saw that frightening anger descend over him again. He gritted his teeth clenched his hands into fists.

"Is that how it's going to be?" he said slowly. "Fine, then. If you won't tell me, then I'll go ask Maxwell and that Hellsing woman instead."

With that, he grabbed Maria by the arm and hauled her off with him. As she stumbled along, unable to keep up with his long strides, his fingers dug into her skin and made her wince. While he marched her through the gallery, he shouted, "Maxwell!" It was not long before Maria heard two set of feet hurrying towards them.

She looked up to see the bishop and Integra drawing nearer, their expressions stricken. The Hellsing leader opened her mouth, but Maxwell spoke first.

"What is going on? Anderson, what is the meaning of this?"

Judging by his reaction, Maria supposed that Maxwell did not recognize her. In response, Anderson shoved her forward and asked "Did you know about this? Did you know that she was with Hellsing?"

The Iscariot leader stared at Maria for a moment. She watched his violet eyes widen as he finally began to recognize her. Somewhere behind his head, Integra was answering Anderson's question.

"No, he didn't know. I had written to the Vatican explaining that she is with us and what to do about it, but your letter reached me before I sent mine. I brought her along so that we could solve this civilly."

The touch of sarcasm was not lost on Maria, but Anderson did not seem to notice. Instead, he replied, "That doesn't explain why she's with you in the first place. Tell me, has Hellsing taken to kidnapping young women now? You bloody Protestants never cease to amaze me."

"Anderson, that's enough," Maxwell snapped. Throwing a glance at his subordinate's hand, he added, "And release that girl. Her arm is practically turning blue."

The enraged priest did as he was told, but he kept his fingers curled loosely around her upper arm. With a defiant little tug, Maria pulled from his grasp and rubbed her bruised skin.

"Well," Maxwell said, looking her up and down. "If it isn't Maria Sartori. I haven't seen you in years."

She could not think of anything remotely polite to say to him, so she kept her mouth shut. He was acting so professional now, but she had heard the way he insulted Integra after she dared to raise her voice to him. Maria did not want to be on the receiving end of any of his vitriol.

"Would you kindly tell me why you, a Catholic, are here with our enemies?" he continued. "And how, perchance, did you ever find out about Hellsing?"

He flashed her a smile that looked too wide to be genuine. She imagined it was the same look a spider gave a fly before mercilessly devouring it in its web. With a sigh, she looked away and muttered, "They saved my life."

An uneasy silence descended upon the small group. Maxwell looked as if she had just told him the sky was purple, and Integra's scowl was so severe that Maria was afraid she was going to give herself early wrinkles. But, it was Father Anderson who shattered the fragile atmosphere.

"Saved your life? If you knew anything about the Hellsing Organization, Maria, you'd know they don't save lives; they damn them. What sort of nonsense have you been-"

"Be quiet!" Maxwell interrupted. He swept past Maria and approached Anderson, speaking quietly to him in Italian. Maria dared not turn around and watch them, but she could hear them very clearly.

"There's an empty conference room on the second floor," Maxwell was saying. "Go there, sort this out with her, and do not lose your composure like that again. I will not be embarrassed in front of this English bitch, do you understand? Now go."

Without waiting for an answer, the bishop turned and made his way back to a stony-faced Integra. Maria caught her gaze and tried to give her an apologetic look. But, there was hardly any time for feeling sorry. As soon as Maxwell and Integra began to walk away, Anderson muttered, "Let's go" and pushed his hand into her back. Maria allowed him to guide her up to the second floor without complaint, frightened of what would happen if she protested. Once they reached the conference room, Anderson shoved the door open, pushed her inside, and slammed the door behind them.

" _'_ _And the Pharisee prayed to himself, 'God, I thank you that I am not like other people: swindlers, and unjust adulterers…'_ " Anderson was muttering to himself as he stormed further into the room, shoving aside the office chairs as he rounded the large pine table. "What do you have to say for yourself, little Pharisee? You're so quick to call me a liar, but there's clearly a lot that you haven't told me."

Maria stared at the plush red carpet under her shoes, wishing she could crawl into a hole in the ground and never come out

"Father," she began, "I beg you, listen to me. I had no choice but to hide this from you."

"You had no choice?" he repeated, glaring at her from across the room. "Do not give me that excuse. You always have a choice."

Maria wanted to insist that she did not, but she knew he would not understand. She did not even know where to begin: Did she tell him everything immediately, or did she wait until he calmed down first? Fresh tears pricked the back of her eyes.

She looked up when she heard Anderson approach. The harsh fluorescent light overhead made him look washed out and pale, as if he had not had a decent sleep in a while. A flicker of pity ignited in Maria's heart suddenly. Had her evasiveness done that to him?

"Start at the beginning," Anderson prompted. "How did you meet these heathens? And what in God's name did they do to you?"

Maria's mouth went dry. She knew that sharing her graveyard escapade with Anderson was completely out of the question, so she started with the Valentine brothers instead.

With Anderson standing over her, she recounted her kidnapping, the siege on the Hellsing estate, and Integra's decision to keep her in the manor for her own safety. Maria left out anything that had to do with her interactions with Alucard and emphasized Integra's intentions to write the Vatican, though she could not help driving one point home at the end of her story.

"I did not believe them," she said. "They kept telling me that an organization called Iscariot existed, and that you were their top man, but I did not believe them." She could feel that intoxicating anger that had given her courage earlier seep into her heart. "I held onto my belief in you until I saw what you did today."

Anderson stepped away from her and sighed. "Don't start with the dramatics, Maria."

"Then tell me!" she cried. "I've been honest with you. Now, tell me why you lied to me and made me look like a fool in front of everyone."

"I might if you change your tone, girl," he warned, glaring at her. "You're in no position to be acting high and mighty, let me tell you."

Maria pressed her lips together in a thin line. She had never felt so infuriated with the priest in her entire life, but she wanted to hear what he had to say. Frowning, Anderson inclined his head to ceiling, as if he was seeking God's assistance.

"What Hellsing is to the Church of England, Iscariot is to the Roman Catholic Church," he started slowly. "We are a special division of the Vatican tasked with the extermination of all unholy and inhuman creatures, particularly vampires."

"How long have you been working for them?" she asked in a hollow voice.

Anderson shook his head. "For longer than you've been alive."

"Then… You have lied to me my entire life…"

"Enough with the martyr complex," the priest snapped, rounding on her suddenly. "There's a reason why Iscariot is a secret organization- I am forbidden to reveal this information to anyone, especially my charges. Only a select few in the orphanage are approached by Iscariot, and many apologies, Maria, but you were not one of those children."

"A select few?" Maria repeated in disbelief. "You mean there are more people from Saint Ferdinand's in Iscariot than just you and Enrico?"

Anderson glared at the wall opposite them as he nodded stiffly. "And on that note, I'll be waiting for that apology, whenever you feel inclined to give it," he added. "I'm sorry I kept all of this from you, but look at all the things you've kept from me. Things that put you in mortal danger, that you felt weren't worth telling me about."

"I'm sorry, Father," she murmured. "I wanted to tell you, but I was so afraid, and Integra told me-"

"Don't start with that," Anderson interrupted. "I told you to keep in touch with me, and what did you do? Keep secrets and run around with a bunch of heretics instead."

"Father-"

"What did I tell you before you left? You were not to associate with Protestants. But you did, and they convinced you to lie to me. They made a dishonest woman of you and turned you into a hypocrite. Now, the Vatican is going to be held responsible for this blunder. Brilliant work, child."

This assault on her character was quick to boil Maria's blood. "You accuse me of being all these things, but you have done far worse than me- I know about Badrick!"

"Badrick?"

"Yes." She backed away from him, just in case he swung at her. "I know what you were really doing in Northern Ireland- Integra told me. Y-You tried to kill Seras. You stabbed her with those horrible bayonets, and you tried to commit murder. Have you seen her, Father? She's just a girl!"

"She's a monster, Maria." His eyes blazed anew with anger, but Maria was not deterred.

"I don't believe you!" she wailed. "And then- God have mercy- you c-cut off his… you cut off Alucard's head. You tried to end his life in a terrible way! How could you do that, Father? How could you be so cruel? I thought you were a-"

"Where is this coming from?" Anderson demanded angrily. "How the hell do you even know who those creatures are? Do you mean to tell me that Integra Hellsing allowed you to come in contact with her pet vampires?"

He looked as if he wanted to break something, but Maria was too upset to notice. Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, and a fresh wave of outrage carried her away as the facts finally sunk in. Father Anderson really had been in Badrick to hunt vampires, and he had tried to kill Alucard, the one who had protected and cared for her throughout this entire ordeal. Maria did not notice she was yelling until she heard her own voice echo in the room.

"And what if she did? It's thanks to her 'pet vampires' that I'm still breathing! Luke Valentine was going to _kidnap_ me, Father, and Alucard ensured that he didn't succeed. I owe him my life, do you understand? I would have been dead if it weren't for him, but you don't seem to see that; all you see is a monster, and in my opinion, that's-"

"I don't care what your bloody opinion is, Maria," Anderson burst suddenly, slamming his fist down on the table. A resonating crack filled the air, and Maria glanced over to see that the pristine wooden surface had split under his fist.

"Do you mean to tell me," he repeated, slowly and dangerously, "that Integra Hellsing let that vampire near you?"

The wave of anger Maria had been riding was suddenly ebbing away, faster than she would have liked. A paralyzing kind of fear quickly overcame her, and she froze. Her mind went blank, as she immediately realized that she did not know how to answer Anderson without implying that she was, in fact, close to Alucard.

"Maria," Anderson said, "answer me."

"I…" Her mouth went dry. What was she going to say? Was there any way to avoid the question? The room started to spin, and she grabbed a chair to steady herself.

"Speak!" Anderson commanded.

Maria stood rooted to the ground, staring up at her guardian, but not seeing him. Images and memories flashed before her eyes, ones that she was sure he could see too: Her fall on the bike path, Alucard finding her in the closet, their walk through the graveyard, the kiss they shared in her bed…

"What happened?" he pressed. "Tell me what he did to you."

"He didn't… I mean, we… We just…"

As Anderson watched a telling blush spread over her face, his own expression began to change. His face, taut with rage and frustration only a second ago, fell. His eyes widened with a sort of vague incredulity, and his lips parted, though he remained silent. When Maria saw this happen, she knew immediately that he knew. He must have seen it in the way her eyes glazed over when she thought about Alucard, or heard it in the way she said his name. Her secret was out now, and there was no way to cram it back into the confines of her heart or her mind.

The suffocating silence endured, and Anderson slowly turned away from her. If she looked carefully, she could see that he was nodding his head. She was not sure if he was accepting what she had inadvertently told him, or if he was trying to rid his mind of the information. Maria waited with baited breath, every muscle in her body tensed.

"All right…" he muttered under his breath. "I see…"

He stood still for a moment with his back to her. Maria stared at the broad expanse of his shoulders, wondering if now was a good time to escape. Anderson had been yelling and pushing her around before, but this sudden stillness frightened her more than all the screaming and aggression combined. She was not sure how much longer either of them were going to be able to endure it before one of them snapped.

In the end, it was Anderson.

The deafening rattle of metal on metal cut through the atmosphere without warning. Maria jumped back when she saw two bayonets slide out from Anderson's sleeves. He caught them by the handles and stomped towards the door.

"Wh-Where are you going?" she stammered.

"I'm going to kill him," Anderson answered simply.

He hauled the door open, letting it slam into the adjacent wall. Maria watched him march out of the room with the horrible feeling that she had just condemned a man to death. If she had been thinking logically, she would have remembered that Alucard had survived a decapitation once, and that he was a perfectly capable fighter. However, the sheer panic that came over her tampered with her memory, and all she could think of was the threat that Anderson had blatantly made.

"Father, don't!"

Maria threw herself out of the room and hurried after him. No one occupied the hallway except for the priest and the young woman. She caught up to him easily and grabbed a hold of his sleeve.

"Father, please, don't do this- I'm begging you, for the love of God! I don't know what Iscariot's idea of justice is, but this is not what our Lord Jesus preached to us! Please, listen to me!"

Anderson wrenched his arm out of her grasp and spun around to face her. His face was twisted and ugly, and his eyes blazed with an otherworldly fury that Maria had never seen in any person before. He stepped back and pointed one of those nasty bayonets at her, the tip almost touching her nose. "Stay out of this, you. And don't presume to preach Scripture to me. Mary Magdalene did not proselytize to Christ."

Maria swallowed down over the lump in her throat as she stared Anderson down from the tip of his blade. "You would do this to me?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You, a man of God, would stand there and point a weapon in my face and threaten to murder my…"

She trailed off when she saw Anderson's jaw clench. If she wanted to keep her nose, perhaps it was better that she did not call Alucard by anything but his proper name.

Before she could blink, Anderson lowered the bayonet and turned on his heel, continuing his way down the corridor. He was not going to listen to her, and he was not going to stop until he found Alucard. Maria found herself running after her guardian again. Blood could not be drawn at her expense. She would not allow it.

"Stop!" she cried as she caught up to him. This time, she grabbed a hold of his elbow, and with two hands, she held on fast and dug her heels into the floor. "Father, if you do this, I swear I will never forgive you! You're not going to prove anything by attacking Alucard! Why can't you see? He saved my life, Father, _my life!_ "

"And that gives him license to lay his hands on you?" Anderson shouted, stopping for a second time to throw her off of him. As Maria stumbled back, he continued, "I don't care what good you think he's done- He's a devil, Maria. The only reason he's kept you alive this long is probably to get under your skirt. It's despicable!"

"Father-!"

"And the fact that you would let him-"

"I didn't do anything like that! And he would never presume to-"

"Listen to yourself: You're defending a monster. You're too shaken by your kidnapping to know what's right anymore, and now you've been taken advantage of."

"I have not!"

"Go back to the conference room and stay there," Anderson commanded, apparently not hearing her. "This is not up for negotiation."

He turned his back on her for a third time and began to walk away, but Maria would not relent. She refused to be treated like a child. She trailed after him and said, "You're no true Christian. You're the monster if you think killing out of revenge is right. You can't do this- I won't let you!"

Anderson stopped in his tracks and raised his arm above his head. Maria saw the bayonet shimmer in the light overhead, and she cringed, waiting for the blade to come down on her.

Instead, there was a loud clanging sound, and she opened her eyes to see that Anderson had brought his weapon down on the doorknob of a janitor's closet they had been walking by. The detached knob rolled away as the door opened slowly. Before she could ask him what that was for, he strode up to her, grabbed her by the wrist, and kicked the door open wider. Ignoring her protests, Anderson shoved her into the dark closet and slammed the door shut.

Maria fell against what felt like a wall of shelves, and somewhere to her left, a mop clattered to the floor. When she regained her balance, she threw herself against the door. It shuddered against her weight, but it would not budge. There was a loud noise that sounded like shattering glass from the corridor beyond, followed by a loud thump. Maria looked down to see the handle of Anderson's bayonet wedged into the hole where the doorknob was supposed to be. It did not take long for Maria to realize that shattering sound had been him driving the blade into the floor. Even without a proper mechanism, Anderson had managed to lock her inside.

"Let me out!" Maria screamed, kicking at the door with all her might. "You maniac, let me out of here!"

The fading footfalls of Anderson's heavy boots were her only answer. In a moment of perfect despair, Maria slumped against the door, breathing heavily the odor of Windex and bleach. She looked around the pitch black closet, wondering if Alucard would poke his head through the wall and come to her rescue.

She knew she could not count on it, though. He had said himself that he was going back to the estate. Someone else would have to save her this time.

Letting that now familiar sense of outrage and hurt energize her, Maria threw herself against the door again, shoving, kicking, and screaming for help as loudly as she could.

* * *

 **And there we have it: The secret is finally out. I had so much fun writing this chapter (in a sadistic sort of way), and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it :) Hang in there, there's more in the works...**


	12. A Bridge to Burn

**Hello, my dear readers! I'm so sorry this update took a while... The last installment left me with quite a few character emotions to deal with, and they all come to a crescendo here. Additionally, school has been getting heavy, so my writing schedule is not as regular, and I doubt it's going to get any easier from here on out... But, more about that later!**

 **As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited, and followed this story. You guys keep me going when things get tough, and your comments, encouragement, and constructive criticisms are always appreciated :)**

 **One more thing before we get started: Things get rather... lime-y in this chapter. So, if you're not comfortable reading that kind of stuff, just skip it. I won't be offended. For those of you who don't know what a 'lime' is... Google is your friend. It'll tell you :P**

 **Anywho, on with the story...**

* * *

From his place at the table in the café, the Major watched Integra Hellsing and Enrico Maxwell, whom were deep in conversation. The bishop had handed the heiress a booklet with the insignia of the Third Reich on it, and she flipped through the pages feverishly as he spoke. The Major folded his hands and allowed himself a little smile, when the Doctor spoke from his side.

"I think, perhaps, they are starting to put it together… They know about Millennium."

"Put it together, you say?" the Major repeated. "Nonsense. They don't know anything about anything yet."

The Doctor shot him an amused smile. "Is it my imagination, or are you enjoying this?"

"'Enjoying' is hardly the word for this feeling, Doctor," the Major said. "I'm ecstatic, positively giddy with anticipation! Just think what a terrible, bloody struggle awaits us! It will be the greatest struggle of them all…"

The Doctor began to reply, but the Major was not listening; a new player had stepped onto the scene and captured his attention. It was Alucard's little servant, Seras Victoria. The Major peered over his glasses, watching her hurry through the garden and up to the Hellsing leader. He strained his ears to overhear their conversation

"Sorry to interrupt!" she panted. "Something's happened- Maria's trapped in a closet!"

The Major and the Doctor exchange perplexed looks. They knew that Maria Sartori had accompanied Hellsing to the National Portrait Gallery, but they had not paid particular attention to her. They had visited the museum with the intent to spy on Hellsing, but it appeared the silly girl was going to occupy their time anyway.

Voicing the Major's thoughts, Integra asked, "What are you talking about, Seras? How did she get trapped in a closet?"

"I don't know," was Seras' flustered answer. "I went to find her, but-"

"Bishop!"

The Major watched incredulously as Maxwell's valet, an old priest, dashed through the tables and approached his superior. The Hellsing family's butler, Walter Dolnez, was with him.

"What's going on, Carlo?" Maxwell demanded.

As the priest began to jabber away in Italian, Walter approached Integra and murmured urgently, "Miss Victoria isn't making things up. Miss Sartori's locked in a broom closet on the second floor, and the paladin is raving like a madman. We need you and the bishop immediately."

Integra's eyes widened, and she immediately rose to her feet. Maxwell followed her, and the small group left the café garden as quickly as they could. The Major and the Doctor stared after them in silence, until the latter spoke.

"Did I understand that correctly? She's managed to lock herself in a janitor's closet? Forgive me, Major, but I really don't see how the Commander could bother himself with someone so stupid."

"You know very well why he would," the Major said. "But, I think there is more to this than meets our eyes. Shall we go take a look?"

The stout little man rose from his seat and strolled off in the direction the Hellsing and Iscariot members had gone. And, with some reluctance, the Doctor followed after him.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Maria was not sure how long she had been shoving at the door and calling for help. It felt like hours, though she could not comprehend how anyone would not notice her disappearance. Surely someone would have heard her? Help was not coming fast enough. Before long, she heard herself calling for Alucard, even though she knew he was not around.

Just as she was about to give up, a peculiar sound reached her ears. It was a mix of sounds, high and low, but all of them frantic- Voices! She could hear Seras and Maxwell, and an angry shout in accented Italian meant Anderson was with them too. Catching a second wind, she threw herself against the door again.

"Help!" she cried. "I am here!"

"My God, Anderson," she heard Maxwell saying, "I thought Carlo was joking! What have you done?"

As the two Vatican envoys began to argue with each other, Maria heard a voice she recognized as Walter's.

"I'll get it," he muttered. The pattering of footsteps followed, and she leaned eagerly on the door.

The shattering of broken tiles rang through the gallery, and the door swung open instantly. Unable to catch herself, Maria let out a cry and fell out of the closet on all fours. She felt a shard of marble dig into the heel of her palm, and she was quickly hauled to her feet by Walter and Seras.

Wild-eyed, she looked around at the people surrounding her, familiar faces blurring into one indistinguishable mass. She saw lips moving, but did not comprehend their words. She turned her head away from the Hellsing members and saw Anderson standing off to the side with Maxwell and his valet. The paladin and the bishop were still arguing, but Maria did not care. When she laid eyes on her guardian, she wrenched her arms out of Walter's and Seras' grip and rounded on him.

"You lunatic!" she screamed in her native tongue. "You sorry excuse of a holy man! Where do you get off, locking me in a closet like that?"

Anderson took a menacing step towards her, only to be blocked when Maxwell stepped into his path. Still, this did not stop the priest from yelling at her over his superior's head.

"I had no choice. Look at the state you're in- You're a goddamn wreck!"

"If you think I'm going to stand here and let you toss me around-"

"Why not? You let _him_ do just that."

"How dare you-"

"Silence," Integra commanded over the cacophony. Maria clamped her lips shut, and the fighting died down. Glaring at them, the heiress continued, "What's going on? Explain yourselves, now."

Maria threw her hands up in the air. Did she really need to ask?

"He locked me inside there!" she cried in English, gesturing to the now vacant closet. "He says he will kill Alucard!"

"And may God strike me down if I don't succeed," Anderson said, straining against Maxwell's arm. "You should have known better, you stupid girl, you should have-"

"Anderson, stop," Maxwell ordered, glaring furiously at his subordinate. "What in God's name do you think you're doing?"

"Ask her," Anderson snapped, pointing at Maria. "Ask her what she's doing, because I haven't the slightest clue what's become of her. Running with the likes of Hellsing, dallying with bloody vampires…" He turned to Integra and roared, "And you let that damn thing near her? You allowed him to corrupt her like this? Look what you've done- She's a ruined woman now! I swear, I will kill you for this-"

Maxwell let fly a grave oath and told the priest to be quiet. Maria turned away from Anderson and crossed her arms over her chest. He was terrible to look at. Amidst the yelling, the glaring, and the insults, she could hardly recognize this man anymore.

She hissed through her teeth when she brushed her palm against her breast. Drawing it back, she looked down and realized the shard of marble was still stuck in her hand. She watched the thin stream of blood run down her wrist, when she heard Maxwell addressing her.

"What's happened?" he asked. "Is Anderson telling the truth? You..." He threw a disdainful glance at Integra, Walter, and Seras. "You've carried out some kind of intimate relationship with their pet vampire?"

There was something cruelly ironic about a Vatican bishop demanding to know the nature of her relationship with Alucard. The Church had taught her that Christian women did not speak about their intimate lives, if they had any at all. She wanted to deny everything and save what little face she had left, but there was no hiding the truth anymore. With her cheeks aflame, she lowered her hand and nodded silently.

Maxwell raised his eyebrows. Maria looked down at her hand again, unable to withstand his judging gaze. She gripped the shard between her thumb and forefinger and pulled it out of her skin. She tossed the bloody piece aside and brought her hand to her mouth. Her blood had been cooled by the air, sharpening the metallic taste and making her grimace.

"I, too, thought you would have known better, Maria," Maxwell said after a pause. "You're a Catholic woman. Would you let yourself fall so far from grace like this?"

Maria drew her hand away and glared at him. "Say what you will about me, Enrico, but only God can judge me," she answered in Italian. "And as far as I can see, Alucard is a thousand times nobler than you and the entirety of Iscariot will ever be. So don't talk to me about falling from grace."

A dark cloud seemed to pass over Maxwell's face. "Mind your words," he hissed. "I won't be spoken down to by some vampire's common whore."

Maria's jaw dropped. No one had ever outright called her such a name before. She was just about to throw an equally hurtful term at the bishop- _bastardo_ \- but she never got the chance; Integra spoke before Maria could hurt Maxwell in the most effective way she knew how.

"That's enough. I would have expected the Vatican to be above name-calling." With a burning look, she continued, "It doesn't matter, though. What Maria does in her spare time is irrelevant. The real problem here is what to do with her. As I explained before, she came to us during the Valentine brothers' attack, and now we need to decide what course of action is most appropriate."

"Why is that even a question?" Anderson snarled. Seemingly aware that this fight had been stalled, he flicked his wrists, and the bayonets shot back up into his sleeves. He looked over at Maria and said, "You're coming back home. I don't give a damn where you ended up during the fight. We're getting the next plane back to Rome, and that will be that."

Marai looked up at him, but she did not move a muscle. For weeks, she had missed Anderson and hoped to see him again soon, but right now, she felt like there was nothing in this world that could convince her to listen to him. She wanted to tell him just that, but her tongue felt thick and heavy, and her lips seemed glue together.

"On the contrary, it does matter," Inetgra interjected. "The Millennium group is looking for her, and the fact that this happened in Protestant territory would usually predispose her to Hellsing's protection."

Anderson clenched his jaw. "If she's really being hunted by those krauts, then I fail to see the dilemma." And then, he continued, "Maria, get over here. We're going home."

"Just a moment, Anderson," Maxwell interrupted. Eyeing Integra, he stepped towards her, hands raised and steps slow, as if he was walking up to a spooked mare. "It appears to me, Sir Integra, that Hellsing and the Vatican are now unwilling allies in this Millennium business: I have given you information, and you are playing host to one of their victims."

"That's correct..." Integra affirmed, furrowing her brow. Maria watched them circle each other figuratively, wondering what Maxwell was getting at.

"In effect, we are in this together," he continued. His voice was calm, almost soothing, but Maria did not fall for this trick. If she knew Enrico Maxwell, he was working harder than ever to tamp down the rage this situation had churned up in him.

"You could say so," Integra allowed.

"Then, it is no matter who gets to keep Maria," Maxwell concluded. "Whether here, or in Italy, she will be under the protection of both Hellsing and Iscariot." With a snide little chuckle, he added, "You Protestants really do appear to complicate simple matters."

He threw a glance in Maria's direction, and with one look into his face, she knew immediately that he did not care to protect her at all. If he was really concerned for her safety as a Catholic, he would have done as Anderson was doing and insist she come home. But, he could care less about where she went because he now saw her as less-than. He did not want a 'fallen woman' directly under the Vatican's protection. She could see in his guarded violet eyes that he thought she was undeserving of papal support. Maria had no doubt in her mind that it was because she was involved with Alucard.

"She's not-" Anderson began to say, but his superior cut him off with a sharp declaration: "She'll make her own decision."

Anderson looked as if he was restraining himself from lunging for Maria, as if he was frightened she would escape: Bent at the waist, hunched shoulders, blazing green eyes fixated on her.

There was a time where she had found so much comfort in his gaze, but her heart ached with the realization that that time was over. He had destroyed everything with his deception, and she could not see any way of restoring that blissful ignorance she had spent the last twenty-four years living in. How could she return home with him, knowing what she knew?

With a shake of her head, she muttered in a defeated voice, "I cannot do it… I…" She heaved a sigh, looking away from Anderson. "I stay with Hellsing."

A heavy silence crashed around them. Maria hung her head. It would be easier if everyone just parted ways and went home now. She did not want to be around these people anymore, and the only person who seemed to share her impatience was Maxwell.

"Then, it's settled," he said. "You'll stay here with your undead plaything, and we'll go back to Rome."

"She's speaking nonsense, Maxwell, of course she's coming with us," Anderson said, and Maria cringed at the sound of his voice. He was still angry, that much was obvious, yet there was an underlying desperation in his tone, something she had never heard from him before. A painful sense of sorrow began to eat away at her stomach, and suddenly, she felt sickened by the whole situation.

"She's made her choice," Maxwell snapped. "Let her live with the decision."

Two drops fell on the tops of Maria's shoes. She was crying again. Sniffing, she rubbed her eyes, but kept her head down. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks, and she prayed this would be over soon. Somewhere off to her side, she could hear Anderson addressing her. She tried to ignore him, but his words were increasingly hard to block out.

"Maria, quit acting like a child and get over here. Do as I say!"

Finally, she raised her head and made herself look at him. There were still tears in her eyes, but she did not care. She hoped he saw in her face how much he had hurt her. She hoped that he could tell, just by looking into her eyes, that she would never forgive him for this treachery.

"I will not leave with you," she told him. "I choose Hellsing."

Her words hung in the air, widening the gulf that had been cleaved between them the moment she set foot into the museum. Maria remained silent, chin raised, though the void threatened to swallow her whole.

"It appears the matter is settled, then," Integra said with a note of definitiveness. "Maria stays with us, and we'll keep the Vatican abreast of our operations in the meantime."

As Maxwell agreed, Maria watched Anderson's face fall. When his clenched jaw went slack and his eyes widened, she knew that he knew he had lost this fight. She expected to feel some kind of bitter satisfaction in his defeat, but all she found within her was an emptiness that threatened to gnaw straight through her heart.

"Fine, then," he said. "Go your own way. Damn your soul for that bloody monster- See if I care. But don't ever expect anything from me or Saint Ferdinand's again. You're a lost cause, as far as I'm concerned."

Maria did not expect those words to hurt her so much. Turning away from him, she placed her fingers over her mouth and suppressed a sob. While she struggled, she heard Integra bid goodbye to Maxwell in an icy yet dignified tone. Before Maria could breathe again, she felt a hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from Maxwell, Anderson, and Carlo. She looked up and saw Integra beside her, her head held high and her eyes fixated on the door at the end of the gallery.

Maria sighed and let the Hellsing leader walk her out, not daring to turn around and look at Father Anderson again. She did not have the energy for that. Instead, she let her head hang, watching her feet take one step after the other away from the man who had raised her.

When they left the gallery, Integra's guiding hand left her shoulder, and she, Walter, and Seras walked ahead of the miserable girl. Maria followed them, wiping furiously at her cheeks, when she finally noticed the burning in her palm. She slowed to a halt and inspected the skin, convinced there was still a shard in the wound, when a small white handkerchief fell into her palm.

She raised her eyebrows and looked up. Alucard was standing in front of her, his hand raised to the height of her shoulders, his fingers outstretched. He said nothing, and she could not glean anything he may have been thinking, for he was still wearing those red-tinted glasses.

Maria glanced down at the handkerchief he had given her and squeezed her hand around it. The blood stained the virginal cloth with wet, red blotches.

" _Grazie,_ " she muttered under her breath.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Meanwhile, concealed in the shadows of the second floor gallery, the Major and the Doctor watched Maxwell and Alexander Anderson argue with each other. The Major had no idea what they were saying, as they were bickering in Italian, but he was highly amused nonetheless.

"What an exciting little drama we have here!" he said. "I don't think I've ever seen a war on such a microscopic level."

"Indeed," the Doctor agreed, though he was frowning. "But, Major, what are we going to do about the girl? You heard it too, did you not? She's in bed with the enemy… Literally…"

"But, of course I did, Doctor," the Major replied. "Alexander Anderson just about shouted it loud enough for the entire museum to hear."

"Should we tell the Commander?"

"Certainly not." The Major made a cutting gesture with the side of his hand, his arm sweeping through the air. "He does not need to know what she's been doing or with whom. If he finds out, he might kill her, and then our agreement will be all for naught."

The Doctor was still unconvinced. "I'm not certain this is a deal worth honouring anymore. If she's loyal to Hellsing, then the plan will not work."

"Ah, my dear Doctor," the Major sighed, shaking his head. "You speak as if the young _fraulein_ has a choice! It would not have mattered if she had chosen Hellsing, Iscariot, or neither of them; her loyalty is inconsequential because she will be forced to comply. She will almost certainly not like the idea at first, but she will have little say in the matter when the time comes. The Commander will get his prize, and I will get what I was promised. The bargain will be kept."

He threw a glance at the trio of Italian clerics, who were now on their way of the gallery. Anderson still looked as if he was about to kick something, and Maxwell's shoulders were weighed down with the indiscretions of his subordinate. The Major could not help smiling to himself.

"Besides," he added in a low voice. "A woman in love is not such a bad thing. Look at what she's managed to do already: She's turned her back on her Church, and she drove her adoptive father to his breaking point… Our little Maria Sartori will do just fine if she maintains that level of passion!"

"Love?" the Doctor repeated. "You really think she's in love, Major? I would say she's merely infatuated."

"Oh, I'm quite certain she's fallen in love with the vampire Alucard," the Major replied lightly, turning back to him. "When you destroy everything you know for the sake of that one something, that single most cherished element in your life, and you bristle like a wild dog at the mere threat of it being taken away...That, Doctor, is what real love is."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Upon her return to the Hellsing manor, Maria barely spoke to anyone. She quickly and quietly thanked Integra for allowing her to stay with them, and with a little nod of recognition from the young woman, Maria turned on her heel and started for her room. She could sense Seras, Walter, and Alucard watching her go, but she did not care if they were staring. She was too concentrated on holding in her emotion until she reached her room.

Once she was safely concealed behind the guest room door, Maria threw herself onto the bed and screamed into a pillow. She had not done anything like that since her teenage years, but it felt cathartic to release the last of her pent up sorrow into the downy mass.

When her voice broke, the screaming eventually died down into a stream of pathetic little sobs. She thought about her trial at the museum over and over again, until she feared the memory would make her ill. She could never forgive her guardian for what he had done. She _hated_ him for it. Judas Iscariot did, indeed, have a familiar face, and it was the face of Father Alexander Anderson.

Eventually, Maria lost the energy to continue crying and made a trip to the bathroom. She washed her face, blew her nose, and bandaged her injured hand. When she looked in the mirror, her reflection nearly frightened her. The girl in the glass looked sallow and washed out, her eyes swollen and glassy, and her nose red and shiny.

Maria pulled back her hair into a quick bun and returned to her place on the bed. She lay on her side, her back to the door, listening to the sound of silence. No one pattered past her room or knocked on the door, and she did not want them to. The members of Hellsing had seen her at her worst, and she did not want to prolong their exposure.

She closed her eyes, and must have fallen asleep at one point, because she awoke to the feeling of a gentle hand on her shoulder. Maria forced her heavy eyelids open and turned her head to see Alucard sitting on the bed next to her. Unlike a few hours ago, he looked calm and composed, as if he had never felt angry in his entire life. Seeing him reminded Maria of just how terrible she looked, and her cheeks immediately flushed.

She waited for him to say something, but he only continued to look at her. It did not take long for Maria to assume the worst.

"What is it?" she said, her voice thick. "Have you come to laugh at me?"

"And why would I do that?" Alucard asked.

"Because, you were right. You were right for the whole time… It was me that was wrong."

"Yes," he said, "but I'm not here to ridicule you."

Maria heaved a sigh and rolled onto her back. He let go of her shoulder and planted his hand down on the mattress, barring her from rolling any further. The side of her torso brushed up against his forearm, and before she could look anywhere else, he caught her in his gaze. She looked up at him silently, letting those deep red eyes bore into her. After a moment, she swallowed down hard and shook her head.

"I am sorry," she murmured. "You were trying to tell me, but I did not listen... I was not prepare to hear these things about Father Anderson."

Alucard touched her cheek, gently pulling away a few stray hairs that were plastered to her skin. "I know," he said. "But I warned you earlier that everyone holds secrets. And, sooner or later, they always come out."

Maria now knew this to be true, but it did not make dealing with the day's events any easier. It did not change the fact that Anderson had lied to her, or that he had disowned her for her relationship with Alucard. The memory of the dark closet and the look on Anderson's face when she made the decision to stay with Hellsing seemed to twist the knife. She turned her head away and closed her eyes. They began to itch with the threat of tears again.

She felt Alucard's lips brush against her forehead as the weight of his chest pressed into hers. "Calm down," he commanded her softly. "It's over now, my dear. You made your choice."

Maria's eyes flew open. He was much closer now, their noses nearly touching, as he leaned against her. He was resting on his elbows, caging her between his arms. He allowed his upper body to rest atop her, effectively holding her down on the bed. She was unable to move, but Maria had no wish to get away from him. For the first time since she woke up, she felt secure, even safe.

"Father Anderson made this choice easy," she murmured. "Never, in all of my life, has any person spoke to me like that… I cannot believe he tells me such lies. And when he said he w-will kill you…" She shook her head. "How can I forgive him? He has hurt me with these things…"

"No one is asking you to forgive him." Alucard's face darkened as he added, "And I don't see why you would, with the way he treated you."

Maria frowned and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "You were where today, Alucard? I thought you were going home, but then after we were leaving-"

"I was nearby," he interrupted. "I saw and heard everything, and it was me who sent the police girl to get my master when you were in the closet. But, if you want to ask me why I didn't directly intervene on your behalf, it was because I understood this to be something between you and Anderson. I had a feeling about how it was all going to turn out, but I wanted you to make your own decision without me around."

He lifted his hand and laid it gently on her cheek. "As you said, it was an easy decision, but it appears to me that you had your mind made from the start, Maria."

She stared up at him, certain that he could feel every frantic beat of her heart. There was no denying his words. He could see right through her: She had wanted to stay in England, but it was not for Hellsing. It was for him. Before she had revealed to Anderson the true nature of their relationship, before she had even seen him at the museum, Alucard had constantly been in the back of her mind. She had wanted him then, and she wanted him now.

With a shaky breath, she whispered, "Yes. I did."

The air around them was like glass, a thin and fragile haze that transcended and restrained. Maria braced herself, waiting for something to happen, when Alucard finally shattered the atmosphere. He slipped his arms underneath her, pulling her tighter against him, and his lips crashed against hers.

Maria inhaled sharply, but Alucard did not seem to care that he caught her off-guard. He pushed her down into the mattress and did not wait to deepen the kiss. Her heart slammed against her chest, but she complied with his demands, yielding almost without question. She closed her eyes and slipped her arms under his, gripping the back of his coat in her fists. A low groan churned at the back of his throat, and in a flurry of movement, he was suddenly atop her, his legs pinning down her own.

She broke away from him momentarily with a gasp. He was quick to silence her, claiming her lips once again, as he pulled a hand out from beneath her and pressed it into the curve of her waist. A burning ache started in her belly and radiated down through her hips, gathering at the apex of her thighs. Without thinking, Maria arched her back and relished the feeling of his hand sliding down the side of her body. He shifted his weight, and with a jerk of his hip, he knocked one of her knees aside. His fingers trailed down her thigh, eliciting a soft moan from her. When she felt his hand curl under her knee, Maria obediently bent her leg, hardly noticing how high her skirt had ridden up. She could only suppress a smile as Alucard kissed her harder.

Her every sense was heightened. She heard the way his breath became ragged when she moved beneath him; she could taste the lingering trace of blood on his lips, and she could feel the slight tilt in his hips. Her heart nearly stopped when something hard and foreign pressed against her thigh, and for a moment, she was convinced that she had trekked too far into unfamiliar territory.

But, she did not ask to stop. There was hardly room in her perception for any thought beyond Alucard and what he was doing to her.

Sooner than she would have liked, she felt him pulling away. His lips left hers, but before she could protest, he dipped his head, and his mouth was suddenly on her neck.

Maria froze in a moment of panic, terrified that he was going to bite her. But, when she felt only his lips ghosting over her skin, the fear left as quickly as it came. She heard herself sigh in relief, and her head fell back. Alucard worked his way up her neck and caught her earlobe between his teeth, nipping gently. A rush of air filled her lungs as a pang of desire seized her.

"I'm pleased you're enjoying this," he murmured in her ear. His voice was low and seductive, and Maria could feel him smile as he added, "But, we'll have to wait to continue; Integra wants to see you. She's in the reading room right now."

Maria suddenly wanted to scream in frustration. Since adolescence, she had been very good at tamping down lust when it reared its alluring head. The first time she found herself noticing boys was also the time when the nuns at Saint Ferdinand's had begun to teach her about what they tacitly called 'the marital act'. It did not take long for Maria to learn that a good girl was a chaste girl, who did not sully her bed or her mind by indulging in carnal desires. Thus, whenever she found herself attracted to a boy, she was quick to disregard her feelings. This changed when she started university, but in general, she took pride in the fact that she was still a virgin who neither needed nor wanted a man in her bed.

But now, she felt quite differently. Now, after letting Alucard wind her up, a painful sense of urgency threatened to consume her. She was almost tempted to leave Integra waiting and continue what she and her prince had started, even if it was not what good Christians did.

But, Integra had serious matters to discuss with her, and Maria knew better than to completely give in. Suppressing a heavy sigh, the young woman resigned herself and muttered, "All right. I will go to her."

Alucard planted a kiss behind her ear, rolled off her, and got up from the bed. She followed him and smoothed back her hair, hoping she did not look too dishevelled. As she fussed, she tried to forget that exquisite sense of desperation Alucard had drummed up within her, though a dull yet pleasant ache persisted.

When she was done, Alucard gestured with a sweep of his arm. "After you, _signorina_."

She nodded and pattered out of the room. He followed her, closed the door, and grabbed her hand before she could walk off. She looked up to see him gazing intently at her, as if he wanted to pick her up and carry her back into the bedroom. Maria stared up at him, goosebumps rising on her skin as he stroked his thumb across the back of her hand. All of the feelings she had been trying to push away slammed back into her like a boomerang, and she quickly realized there was nothing more she wanted than to stay with him.

He must have read this in her face, because he gave her a smile and said in a gentle voice, "I'll come to you afterwards. You're not going to get rid of me that easily."

Maria could not help but to laugh. It was the first time she had smiled all day.

With a nod and a kiss on her hand, Alucard turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of Integra's office. Maria watched him go for a moment, trying to ignore the feeling that something important was slowly retreating from her. She had thought of nothing but Alucard when he had kissed her, and she was not sure if she was ready to face reality again. She wanted him to come back and help her block the world out for a little while longer.

But, Integra was waiting to give her a dose of reality, so Maria pushed the thought from her mind and made her way towards the reading room.

* * *

 **And there's the chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it! Now, I have some good news and bad news to share with you:**

 **The good news is, I'm halfway through the first draft of the next chapter, and am currently outlining the ones that follow.**

 **The bad news is a continuation of what I mentioned at the beginning of this chapter: With midterms on the horizon, and then finals only a few weeks later, I have a feeling that they're going to impact my writing. In fact, I know school is going to take priority over this story for the next little while... Not because I want it to, but sadly, Kouta Hirano's endearing characters aren't going to help me graduate. With that in mind, don't be surprised if it's another long while before I update. I'm terribly sorry about that...**

 **That being said, I'm fully committed to writing this story, and I'll work on it any chance I get. No matter how long it takes, my beta and I will continue working on the chapters and posting them as soon as they're reader-ready. It just might take longer now.**

 **Thank you so much for understanding, guys, and thanks for sticking with me. Until next time! :)**


	13. A Soldier's Farewell

**Hellooooo readers! I am back from the dead! :D**

 **Well, I finished writing my last paper a few hours ago. This means the semester from hell is finally over, so to celebrate, I decided to get right on editing and posting this chapter.**

 **Now that school is finished for me, I would just like to thank you all so much for your patience and understanding. I know it's been a while since I updated, but you guys were real good sports about it. Oh, and of course, thank you all for the reviews! When I see people telling me that my story is the "best" they've found so far, or that it's their favorite, it really warms my heart :) And it encourages me even more to keep on writing, so thanks so much for that!**

 **Anyway, happy reading!**

* * *

When Maria entered the reading room, she saw Integra sitting in the armchair, smoking a cigar, and flipping through some documents. She looked up when Maria came in and set the papers aside.

"You wish to talk with me, Sir Integra?"

"Yes." The blonde mashed her cigar into an ashtray on the coffee table and rose to her feet. Maria shut the door and met her in the middle of the room, suddenly wary about the fact that she was standing. Was she that agitated?

"Integra," Maria began before her companion could speak, "I wish to say that I am sorry. I did not intend for a _trambusto_ in the museum today."

The Hellsing leader furrowed her brow and sighed. "I wish you would have waited until I spoke to Enrico Maxwell about you before going to see Anderson. But, given the circumstances, I understand why you confronted him. The commotion wasn't entirely your fault, so don't look so penitent."

Maria let go of the breath she did not realize she had been holding and nodded her thanks.

"However," Integra continued, "that isn't why I wanted to talk to you. As you know, I had a discussion with Maxwell about Millennium. We've found out who they are…"

The air seemed to grow cold. Maria had nearly forgotten about Millennium. The fiasco at the museum was enough to occupy her mind, let alone the fact that a mysterious group of people was looking for her.

"I don't know how to tell you this gently," Integra continued, "so, I'll simply say it: Millennium is a relic of the Third Reich, a battalion of Nazis that Alucard and Walter were supposed to have destroy during World War II. Millennium was breeding an army of vampires, and would have deployed them in combat, if it had not been for Hellsing. The war ended soon after, and the last remaining members escaped to South America before the Nuremburg Trials began."

Maria almost choked on her own shock. As an Italian, she had been raised to avoid the subject of fascism altogether. She knew very well her country had been on the wrong side during World War II, and in school, she and her classmates were lectured about Mussolini's mistakes, especially those that involved Adolf Hitler. But, Maria had not learned about this in class. Nazis were terrible enough on their own, but with a horde of vampires at their disposal? She did not dare to think about the kinds of new horrors they could commit.

"N…Nazis?" she managed. "But… How? Wh-What do they want with me?"

"I don't know," Integra said with a sigh.

"I-I am not a Nazi," Maria continued. "I do not know any people such as that!" A violent shudder ran through down her spine. " _Dio Mio…_ What will happen now...?"

"What's going to happen now is this: You'll stay here," Integra answered, "and we'll get to the bottom of this. I believe a sizeable portion of the group is currently hiding in Brazil, so I'm sending Alucard and Seras there."

"When?"

"As soon as possible. My jet should be ready for them by tomorrow morning."

Maria's stomach dropped and settled somewhere down by her toes. She did not want Alucard to leave. The idea of him being away for an indefinite amount of time made her heart ache, and the absence of his protection made her feel like she was being stripped naked and left out in the woods. How would she manage without him around?

"I know this isn't an ideal situation," Inetgra continued, "but we're trying our best. Alucard will be given the order to search and destroy, and we'll work to put an end to this once and for all."

Despite this assurance, Maria did not feel any better. Nevertheless, she did not have much say in the matter, so she merely muttered a quiet, "Yes, Sir Integra", and set to resigning herself.

With a little nod, Integra gathered up her documents and made a move towards the door. As she passed Maria, her voice took on a gentler note. "Don't worry. You'll have time to say goodbye before he leaves."

Maria offered her a grateful little smile, but on the inside, she was falling apart. In the span of a day, she had discovered the truth about the man who raised her, chose a vampire over him, and found out Nazis were after her. In the privacy of her mind, she congratulated herself on not fainting.

"You should go to bed," Integra suggested as she strode towards the door. "Anyone in your position would be exhausted by now."

Maria could not have agreed more. She had heard enough bad news to last her a while, and an eight-hour sleep would be a nice, if temporary, respite.

But, as she made her way back to her room, Maria could already feel her sleepiness being chased away by a strange mixture of terror and premature longing. The idea of Alucard leaving had already begun to eat away at her, and the fact that Nazis were looking for her did not help. Suddenly, she got the feeling that she was facing a very long, restless night ahead.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Just as she expected, Maria could not bring herself to fall asleep. Her body ached, and her head hurt, but her thoughts continued to race. Lying on her back, she stared up at the dark ceiling and wished for sleep. But, her mind would not quiet, and she eventually got up and turned on the light.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, Maria noticed her dog-eared copy of _Dracula_ lying by her headboard. Shrugging, she grabbed it and climbed back into bed. If she could not sleep, she might as well read.

Maria picked up where she had left off: Lucy was still languishing, and Mina was in Budapest, where she had just married Jonathan Harker. Maria read on, following Dr. Seward's last attempt to save Mina's friend, when he decided to call in an old professor of his from Amsterdam: Abraham Van Helsing.

The young woman stopped reading when she saw the name. Van Helsing? He shared a name with Integra, though hers was much more anglicized. Maria had the sneaking suspicion that this man had, indeed, existed. Why else would Integra's organization be named after him? Why else would she share his name?

Feeling like she was on the hunt for answers, Maria devoured the following chapters as quickly as she could: Van Helsing journeyed to London from his home in the Netherlands and began to do things a little differently than Seward and the others: He placed wreaths of garlic around Lucy's neck and room, but it was no use. Lucy's mother removed the wreaths, and a monstrous wolf attacked the Westenra residence that night. The mother died of shock, and the daughter wasted away until she finally died.

Maria found herself sympathizing with the mourners as she read about Lucy's burial and Mina's discovery that she had lost her best friend. Against her will, memories of Katie and Irene's mangled bodies flashed in her mind, and she put down the book for a moment. She let the dull blade of sadness run through her as she contemplated the last night they had all spent together: Drinking sodas on the stoop of their triplex, discussing vampires and whether it was worse to be impaled or crucified. They never found an answer, but in her mind, Maria posed a new question: Which was worse? To be shot to death in the middle of the night, or to have your blood slowly drained until you perished?

She rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows, flipping through the book. Lucy's death had resurrected a painful memory, but this was not the end of the story. She had to know what Alucard's role was in this, and how Abraham Van Helsing planned to deal with these vampires.

While Mina learned the truth of her husband's ordeal in Transylvania, Maria was disturbed to read that Lucy had risen again as a _nosferatu_ , stealing children off the streets and drinking their blood. Maria almost rushed through the scene where Van Helsing visited Mina because she was so eager to know what would happen to Lucy. But, a line of the professor's dialogue caught her attention, and she slowed down to read it properly:

 _"_ _He must, indeed, have been that Voivode Dracula, who won his name against the Turk, over the great river at the very frontier of Turkey-land. If it be so, then he was no common man; for in that time, and centuries after, he was spoken of as the cleverest and most cunning, as well as the bravest of the sons of the 'land beyond the forest.'"_

Maria read the passage carefully, her pulse quickening with each word. She flipped the pages back and reread the scene. Mina and Van Helsing were, indeed, discussing Alucard, and the Dutchman's words reminded her vaguely of what Katie had told her that fateful night: The "real" Dracula had been a medieval prince, somewhere out in Eastern Europe (which Maria now knew to be Romania), and he was known to be ruthless. Question filled Maria's mind, and suddenly, she forgot all about Lucy. She wanted to know if Stoker's words were true. She had to find out what Alucard's life as a human was like, if anything Abraham Van Helsing said was true, and if he and Alucard knew each other. Before she could think twice, Maria leapt out of bed, threw on her housecoat, and left her room as quickly as her feet would take her.

She pattered down the hallway, holding onto as many questions as she could remember, when she realized that she should have brought a flashlight with her. The mansion was dark and eerily quiet, and she had no idea where she was going. She admired the splendour of the Hellsing estate during the day, but at night, after hours of reading a horror novel, the place made Maria's skin crawl. Her plan was to visit Alucard in his room, but she was loath to go down into the dark basement alone, especially if he was not there. For all she knew, he could have been out training with Seras, or wandering about the streets of London on his own. Maria could not help but to wonder if he had done just that when he arrived in England all those years ago, looking for easy prey. She shuddered as she rounded the corridor. There was no need to think about that now.

Suddenly, the giant figure of a man loomed over her, and Maria gave a startled yell. She nearly ran back around the corner to hide, but calm swept over her when she realized it was just a painting. She gazed up at the massive portrait, allowing her eyes to adjust and her heart to still, as she took in the painting's features as best as she could. The portrait depicted a tall, barrel-chested man in a familiar red duster, cravat, and riding boots. His dark brown hair was slicked back, a few strands falling to the side of his face, and his deep-set blue eyes appeared to dance with a sort of reserved amusement. One gloved hand was tucked into his vest, and the other was laid on a balustrade Maria recognized from the front foyer. She let her gaze travel down the man's body, squinting at every detail, until her gaze fell upon a little plaque on the bottom of the frame. The lettering was bold and dark, making the name easier for her to read in the dim light: _Abraham Van Helsing._

"What are you still doing up?"

Maria jumped and spun around. Alucard was standing behind her. She could barely make him out, only his silhouette and the dull, red reflection of his eyes in the darkness. She lay a hand over her breast and breathed out a sigh.

"I cannot sleep."

Alucard inclined his head, gazing up at the portrait towering over them. "Oh?"

"I… I was reading."

He laughed quietly under his breath. "Then, I suppose you have more questions for me."

"Yes, I do."

Silence descended upon them. She guessed he was waiting for her to begin asking the questions. With a gesture towards the painting she ventured, "Do you know him?"

Her eyes had adjusted a little better now, and she saw his smile disappear. "Yes," he answered in a sombre tone. "Abraham Van Helsing was my first master."

Maria's eyes widened, and he chuckled mirthlessly at her reaction. "I don't suppose you've gotten that far in the book yet."

"Ah… No, I have not. When I stopped reading, he and Mina were speaking of… of you, I think…"

It may have been dark, but she did not miss the way the corners of his mouth turned down as he gave her an evasive "hmph." He seemed to have been in a relatively good mood, and she felt bad for having ruined it with that comment. She was about to change the subject, but he beat her to it.

"Well, in that case…" He approached her and offered her his arm. "Why don't we go back to your room? I'm sure you'd prefer that to standing here in the dark."

Nodding, she slipped her arm around his. The contact sent shivers down her spine, raising goose bumps on her skin. He led her back down the hall and around the corner in silence, leaving Abraham Van Helsing in the shadows.

They slipped through her door, and Maria closed it quietly behind her. She turned and watched Alucard move deeper into the room, which was bathed in the soft yellow light from emanating from the lamp on her bureau. He glanced over his shoulder and reached for her hand.

She stepped towards him, slipping her hand into his, letting him pull her against him. In an instant, she forgot all about the monsters she had been reading about. She fastened her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. He stepped back, and she braced herself as they fell back onto the bed.

Maria let herself follow him down, ignoring the buttons on his vest that dug into her ribs. When they landed, she looked up to see his head thrown back, his long dark hair tousled against the snowy field of the blanket. He glanced up at her through his bangs with a gentle expression, a ghost of a smile playing over his mouth. His good mood seemed to have returned, and in the dim glow of the lamplight, he looked so handsome it made Maria ache. With a sigh, she let her head drop and tightened her arms around him.

"What's wrong?" he asked. A pair of hands rested on the small of her back, comforting. "You're very quiet."

She stared at the headboard across from them and frowned. Her legs were tangled with his, though the skirts of her nightgown and housecoat covered them. The contents of Stoker's book had fled her mind, but only to be replaced with more immediate concerns.

"You are leaving," she murmured. "You will go to Brazil."

He did not say anything, but his fingers began to trace gentle patterns on her back. She swallowed over a painful lump that had formed in her throat.

"I know you must leave," she said, "but it will be dangerous, no?... I will miss you…"

She screwed her eyes shut and hid her face. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was silly. Alucard was leaving to root out the Millennium members hiding in South America, people who meant her harm. She should have been thankful that he was going to slay the dragon that threatened her, but there seemed to be a disconnect between her mind and her feelings. She simply could not help but to feel sad at the idea of him going.

She felt one of his hands leave her lower body and settle on the back of her head. With a sigh, she tried to relax as his fingers wove themselves into her hair.

"Danger is subjective," he said under his breath. "You don't have to worry about those things. As for missing me..."

His fingers left her hair and trailed down her cheek. He hooked his index finger under her chin and made her look at him. His face was serious, and his eyes gave nothing away. "I must go. That isn't negotiable."

"I know," she whispered. "But I would not ask-"

"I'm leaving for South America tomorrow," he interrupted, his gaze never leaving her face. "But until then, I can stay with you. I'll be wherever you want me to be. It's up to you, Maria."

"What do you...?"

Maria trailed off, half expecting him to clarify, but he did no such thing. He merely looked at her, waiting for her to reply. After a beat, the meaning of his words finally sunk in, and her heart leapt into her throat. When his hand moved from her chin to cup the side of her face, she was certain her skin might burn through his glove.

"You... You will stay here?" she murmured. "With me?"

"If that's what you want," was his answer. He gently touched his thumb under her eye and added, "But you have to promise you'll sleep. Staying up so late isn't healthy for humans, and you've been doing that a lot lately."

The tightness in Maria's chest lessened as soon as she heard him say that. Indeed, if he was concerned about her getting sleep, then he probably did not have any ulterior motives. Deep down, she knew that spending the night with a man, regardless of what she did with him, was un-Christian behaviour. Everyone back home would be shocked. But, she did not have a home at Saint Ferdinand's anymore, and she was becoming increasingly adept at forgetting what good Catholic women did. Before she could lose her nerve, she gave Alucard an enthusiastic, affirmative nod.

That grin of his widened ever so slightly, almost threatening a smile. He was pleased, Maria could tell. Perhaps, he was hoping that she would say yes. She tried to return the smile, but ended up looking away from him to stifle a yawn.

"Come, Maria," he said. "Get ready for bed, and I'll answer whatever questions you have."

She gave him a shy little smile. "Yes. Just a moment."

Maria rolled off of him and slid down from the mattress. With her back to him, she slipped out of her housecoat, and hung it up in the closet across from the bathroom. She turned back to him and held out her hand for his coat.

"Here," he said, rising from the bed. "Allow me."

Maria lowered her hand and stepped away from the door as Alucard slipped his duster off and hung it on the hanger next to her housecoat. She watched with a racing heart as his vest went next, followed by his cravat, and he slid off his riding boots before placing them near the door. When he noticed her staring, he gave her a keen look and flicked the first button of his white shirt open. When she blushed, he laughed.

"Are you frightened?"

This only made her more flustered. "What? N-No, I am not."

He furrowed his brow, as if he was thinking of asking her something, but remained silent. When he took her hand into his, Maria noticed that he had curiously left his gloves on. She was about to ask him if he would not take them off, but she forgot her words when he led her to the bed. Trying to maintain her composure, she pulled back the covers, and he left her side to turn off the light.

When darkness filled the room, Maria slipped into bed and felt her way to the side of the mattress. She had forgotten to draw her curtains, and the moonlight streamed into her room, pooling onto her comforter and over her legs. Her eyes were quick to adjust to the darkness, but she felt Alucard slip into bed with her before she saw him. She rolled away from the window and nearly smacked into him. With a chuckle, he enveloped her in arms and pulled her against him.

"Be careful," he said. "I'd rather not leave you with a bruise to remember me by."

Maria bit her lip and giggled, a strange, nervous sound. She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I know you must go, Alucard. But, I wish you will return soon."

He raised himself up on his elbow and shifted her so that she was on her back, cradled in his arms. He looked down at her, one side of his face illuminated by the moonlight. Maria was immediately struck by the way his eyes seemed to dance, and his skin appeared to glow in the pale light. For a moment, she found she could not breathe.

"Don't think about it now," he told her. "I'm not leaving until tomorrow."

Tomorrow. She still had all night to spend with him. Until then, he was going to stay, in bed, next to her. She gulped and nodded her head, feeling as if she had swallowed her tongue. Her nerves must have showed through on her face, though, because a smug little grin began to creep onto Alucard's face again.

"Why are you so nervous?" He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm not going to ravish you, you know."

The blood in Maria's face drained and pooled somewhere lower, deeper, within her. Heat seemed to spread throughout her body, coursing down her belly, hips, and legs, which were already tangled in the sheets. She tried to think of something to say, but all she could manage was, "I know."

He let that grin spread into a smile, his sharp teeth glimmering in the pale light. "Then relax."

She opened her mouth to deny that she was nervous at all, but it was no use. He could read her well, and he knew exactly what had been going through her mind. Instead, she rolled back onto her side and rested her cheek against his chest, her arms snaking around him, following the curve of his ribs. With a sigh, she shut her eyes and gave him a squeeze. She hoped it conveyed what she could not say.

"You never asked me any of your questions," Alucard said after a moment of silence. He rested his chin on her head and asked, "Did you still want to?"

Maria's eyes flew open, and she wondered briefly if he was testing her. Nearly every time she brought up Stoker's novel, he seemed to get agitated. Yes, she had many questions for him, but did she want to ruin the night by asking them and upsetting him? His good mood had returned, and she was reluctant to take it away from him again. The questions and answers could wait.

"Ah... In truth, I forget..." she murmured, even though it was not the truth at all. "Many things are happening in this book, now... There is much discussion about vampires, and history, and tradition... Things about _voi-vodees_ , and such..."

When Alucard did not reply, she knew immediately that she had made one comment too many. She should have simply stopped talking after she said she forgot. Now he was probably angry, and she had no idea how she was going to soothe him if-

"It's pronounced _voi-vohde_ ," he said, interrupting her thoughts. He shifted her in his arms and said with a tinge of amusement, "You really are tired."

He did not say anymore, but Maria was suddenly intrigued. The way he had said _voivode_ was strange. There was a deeper inflection in his voice, maybe even a hint of an accent. For perhaps the first time since she met him, Maria realized that Alucard's first language was probably not English.

She drew back from him slightly and looked up at him. His head fell back on the pillow, and she saw that his eyes were closed. Unable to help herself, she asked, "You speak Romanian, no?"

One eye opened slowly, the red iris finding her instantly. "Yes..."

A giddy smile threatened to break the surface of her face. She did not know why, but she found this endlessly interesting. Perhaps it was the fatigue.

"Will you speak it?"

He shut his eye and touched the back of her head, a gentle effort to get her to go back to her previous position. "No."

Maria said nothing but obeyed the command when she noticed he was starting to frown. Still, even as she nestled back down against him she let slip a little, " _Per favore_...?"

He tightened his arms around her and replied, "Go to sleep, Maria. You've had a long day."

Knowing she had lost that battle, Maria gave up her desire to hear him speak Romanian and resigned herself to his embrace. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply the earthy scent of his clothes, no doubt a result of spending so much time in the basement. She could feel herself dozing off, but a thought entered her mind just as she was about to fall asleep.

" _E notte_ ," she mumbled, forgetting her English. "You do not sleep now... You will be _annoiato_..."

She was vaguely aware that he might not understand that she was concerned about him being bored while she slept. But, she found that she did not have the energy to think of the translation. She merely lay with him, her eyes closed and her body limp, thinking of nothing, when she heard him respond.

"It's fine. I don't mind."

That was good enough for her. She immediately let go of that last, lingering worry, when she heard him mutter something else. She was not sure if she was supposed to hear it, as it sounded like he was almost saying it to himself, but she heard it nonetheless.

"You spoke of history and tradition before..." Alucard's thumb ran over her spine in upwards and downwards strokes. "A good warrior never sleeps before a battle... He gets a soldier's farewell if he has something worth fighting for."

A soldier's farewell. Maria did not know what that meant, and she was too tired to ask. Instead, she let herself fall asleep, resolving to put all worldly issues aside for at least a few hours. However, even as she promised herself this, it did not stop half formed dreams of blood and iron from plaguing her as she slept.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Maria woke up on her side, facing the window. The sun streamed in through the glass and shone down on her face like a gentle kiss. It took her a moment to remember how she had fallen asleep last night. When her memory returned, she stretched and rolled over, reaching out with her hand.

To her disappointment, Alucard was gone. The blankets had been pushed back, but he did not even leave and imprint on the mattress. Maria looked up and saw that the door was closed, just as it had been last night. With a heavy sigh, she flopped onto her belly and lay prone on the bed. Her cheek rested against the spot where he had lain, and she closed her eyes. Had he really been there? Was it all a beautiful dream? She turned her face into the material, that familiar earthy scent tickling her nostrils. A nostalgic little smile crept over her face. It was no dream.

With a wistful sigh, she slipped out of bed and hurried to get changed. She pulled on a simple dress and dragged a comb through her hair before glancing at the clock on the wall: It was nine o' clock. She stared at the white, round face, frowning. When did Alucard say he was leaving? It was some time in the day, but she could not remember when.

Maria glanced back at the unmade bed, and suddenly, she felt as if her stomach had dropped through the floorboards. Had he already left for the airport?

Without a moment to lose, she pulled the door open and marched down the hallway, ignoring the portraits who stared at her as she went. She fixed her gaze straight ahead, towards the staircase, trying not to break out into a run. She was almost at the first step, when a voice sounded behind her.

"They haven't left yet."

Maria came to an abrupt halt and glanced over her shoulder. Integra was standing there, cigar in hand. She grinned and said, "No need to rush. They're leaving in about two hours."

Maria tried not to look too sheepish as she turned around and folded her hands. She tried to think of something to say, but longer Integra smiled at her, the more self-conscious and tongue tied she became. After a moment of awkward silence, Maria ventured, "They… they are where?"

"Sleeping, I believe," Integra replied. "Alucard and Seras are resting before the trip, and Mr. Bernadotte is making his own preparations."

"Who?" Maria asked.

Integra took a drag of her cigar and blew the smoke out of the corner of her mouth. "That's right, you were never introduced," she murmured, half to herself. She glanced at the confused young woman and said, "Pip Bernadotte is the leader of our new guard. Would you like to meet him? He'll be accompanying Seras and Alucard to Brazil."

The mention of the mission made Maria's stomach twist, but she made herself smile and nod. There was no use worrying about what was going on, especially since she was virtually powerless to help or do anything about it. Besides, she could use some company. Spending two hours on her own, counting down the minutes until she had to say goodbye appeared a rather sad and undesirable prospect to her.

Integra led her down the grand staircase, through the entrance hall, and around a secluded corner, where a sparse hallway stretched down to a dead end. On the west wall, a door stood ajar, and the sounds of voice chattering away in French and English mingled into one, low hum. Maria followed Integra up to the door and watched her push it open.

The room fell silent as Integra walked in. Maria followed her into the tiny, four-walled, window-less lounge, which housed a refrigerator, a microwave, a table, and three heavily armed men. At the sight of their guns and bowie knives, the young woman was suddenly seized with the urge to run away. But, she reminded herself that these men, though paid killers, were guards who kept the Hellsing manor safe. As she stepped further into the room, she noticed that there was a fourth man sitting at the table. Unlike his colleagues, he was dressed in a comfortable-looking white suit, the top button of his black shirt undone, and his feet were fit into shiny dress shoes. When Maria saw his auburn hair and eye patch, she immediately recognized him as the man who she had seen a few days ago, sitting on the drawing room floor, bleeding from his forehead.

"Captain Bernadotte, I don't believe you've met Maria Sartori," Integra was saying to the white-clad soldier.

Pip Bernadotte turned to her and gave her a quick look over. "No, I don't believe so," he said, a French accent lacing his words. He rose from his chair and extended his hand. " _Enchant_ _é_ _, mademoiselle_."

Maria shook his hand. " _Buongiorno_ \- Ah, um- I mean, good morning."

The captain gave her a little grin. "Italian?"

"Yes."

"Maria has been under our protection since the Valentine brothers' attack," Integra said. "As Millennium is looking for her, she'll be staying with us until the threat is neutralized."

"Huh." Pip glanced at her and raised his eyebrows. "A baptism by fire, _n'est-pas_?"

Maria smiled. She had never heard that expression before, but it sounded like an accurate description of her ordeal.

"You are a brave girl, Maria."

She shook her head. "No, not 'brave'," she murmured. "Just…" She was unsure of how to finish that sentence. Initially, she wanted to say "unlucky", but she was not sure if that was really how she felt anymore. She was endangered, frightened, and sad to be saying goodbye, but she had survived everything with but a broken toenail, a sliced palm, and an ugly scab on her shin. She was perhaps the luckiest girl in the world to still be alive.

Once introductions were over, Integra excused herself and left the kitchen. Without much else to do, Maria joined Pip and the other men at the table, tentatively accepting a donut from the plate they offered her. As she nibbled on the pastry, she got to know more about them. Pip was the leader of these mercenaries, the "Wild Geese" as they called themselves. The longer Maria sat there and talked with them, the more she felt at ease. These men, despite their guns and camos, were actually quite nice. She found out that many of them had families, and they had been fighting in Kosovo against Slobodan Milosevic's forces before being approached by Hellsing.

"How about you, Maria?" Pip asked, as he lit himself a cigarette. "You're in quite the situation here. Isn't there someone at home worrying over you?"

The question hit her like a kick in the stomach. It hurt, even though Pip did not mean any harm by asking. Last night, wrapped up in the pages of a book and the arms of her prince, Maria had nearly forgotten that she once had a home outside the Hellsing manor. Pip's words churned up too-recent memories of her confrontation with Anderson and the last words he said to her: _"You're a lost cause…"_

Maria took a hesitant bite out of her donut, chewing slowly and swallowing with some difficulty. Looking down at her plate, she murmured, "No, there is not…" Before an awkward silence could invade the kitchen, she shrugged and added, "But, it is all right. Much less trouble like this, no?"

A few of the men chuckled, fending off the awkwardness for good. Maria forcefully pushed the memory from her mind, and looked up at Pip. She was about to ask him if he had a family, but he was not looking at her. The room fell silent once again, and when Maria turned to see what everyone was looking at, she almost jumped out of her chair.

Alucard was standing in the doorway, but she almost did not recognize him. Perhaps it was the dark grey suit he was sporting. Perhaps it was the way his hair fell neatly over his shoulders in straight, black curtains, as opposed to its usual, tousled look. Either way, her heart leapt when she saw him.

He glanced down at Pip through his glasses and said, "Come, Captain. It's time to go."

Maria glanced back at Pip to see that the initial anxiety in his face had fled, and his eyes seemed to dance with a sort of tempered excitement. "Already? Well then, let's be off." He rose from his chair and turned to his soldiers. "Ladies, will you see us out the door?"

The men rolled their eyes and laughed off Pip's insult with good humour, but Maria suddenly did not feel like smiling. Did they really have to leave now? It seemed too soon. She let her gaze settle on Alucard as the Wild Geese filed out of the lounge. He lingered by the door, standing aside to let them pass. Once the room was empty, Maria slid off her chair and approached him, trying not to look too despondent.

"I was searching for you this-"

But she never got to finish that sentence. Almost as soon as her feet touched the floor, she found herself lifted into the air again, two strong arms wrapped around her middle. She let out a surprised little cry as she was seated on the table, her flailing arms nearly knocking the plate of donuts over. Alucard grinned, eyeing her from over the rim of his glasses.

"I know you were looking for me," he said in a husky voice. "You'll have to forgive me for leaving before you woke up this morning; I had to see to some last minute preparations."

"Oh," was all Maria could say.

He planted his palms on either side of her, his thumbs almost brushing her buttocks. He leaned in towards her, and she parted her knees for him, almost unconsciously. Her skirt strained against her legs, but she barely noticed. The only thing she could perceive was his blood red eyes and how he looked at her with an intensity that stole her breath. His forehead touched hers, and she shut her eyes, just in case she started crying.

"Promise not to worry while I'm gone," he murmured. "Everything will be all right."

"When will you return?" Maria asked. Her voice broke on the last word.

"Once the mission is complete. I can't say exactly how long it will take."

She opened her eyes to see that he was smiling slightly, as if he was trying to suppress a long-denied feeling of elation. Was he so eager to run headlong into danger? Maria knew this was his job, and he clearly enjoyed it, but it did not change the fact that she was worried. Who knew what these Nazis vampires were capable of? Who knew if it would take him a day or a month to come back to her? What if he did not come back at all?

"I will miss you, Alucard," she said quietly. "Be careful, please."

One of his hands left the table and found its way into her hair. Alucard pulled her head towards him and touched his lips to hers. Though his grip was firm, his kiss was soft and careful, an attempt to calm her down. It was nice, but it was not what Maria needed now.

Instead, she scooted to the edge of the table and threw her arms around his neck. She pulled him as close as she could, pressing herself against him. She willed herself to memorize every hard plane and sinewy muscle of his body, just in case he was gone for a long while. She did not want to forget the feel of him. She promised herself she would not.

Alucard stood immobile for a moment, taken aback back her sudden assertiveness. But, it was only a brief pause before he responded in kind. He snaked his arms around her and crushed her against him, almost pulling her off the table. The hem of Maria's skirt sprung back over her knees and landed somewhere up near her hips. For a horrible instant, the magic was broken, and all she could do was feel embarrassed that her panties were showing.

But, Alucard seemed barely to notice. When she fell against him, he only kissed her harder, his final goodbye to her. Maria quickly forgot about her skirt and let herself come back under his spell, pushing her knees into his sides. She wished he could stay. She wanted him to stay; but, there were monsters out there to confront, and she knew better than to try to keep him from his duties. He was doing this for queen and country, his master and servant, and for her. Just like the other times, he was doing his best to protect her. With this in mind, she knew that all she could do now was show him her support and wait faithfully until he returned to her. This, she finally understood, was a real soldier's farewell.

* * *

 **Ah, Maria, you little idealist... I'm afraid I'm going to have to dump a cold bucket of reality on you soon...**

 **Now, before I say anything else, I'm going to stick a disclaimer in this author's note, because I'm terrified of getting sued and not giving credit: The reference to Maria's "dreams of blood and iron" comes from a song. Marduk's "Dreams of Blood and Iron" is actually about the early history of Vlad Dracula's life, and if any of you are fans of metal, I highly suggest you give it a listen!**

 **Anyway, thanks again so much for reading and being patient with me. You guys rock, seriously! Stay tuned for more (and no, you won't have to wait a month for it this time)!**


	14. A Hard Truth

**So... I lied. I said you guys wouldn't have to wait a month until the next update, but you did, and I'm sorry! However, there's a good reason for my tardiness: My beta, Vicky, got married over the holidays! She's also moving out of the country with her new hubby, so obviously, 'Thirty Pieces' had to wait in the midst of all this excitement. Still, even though she's in the process of moving, she got around to editting my chapter anyway, because she's awesome. So, let's all give Mrs. Vicky a big, collective congratulations, and from me, a special thank you for getting this chapter done when you did!**

 **Also, I want to say thanks to everyone who reviewed! Your comments are always appreciated, and they're great motivators! And, of course, thanks to those of you who favourited and followed. Your support means a lot :)**

 **Now then, let's dump that cold bucket of reality on our poor heroine...**

* * *

The cabin was filled with the muted hum of the jet's engines. Alucard sat across from Pip, sipping his glass of wine and smiling to himself. It had been a very long time since he had been sent into a real battle. He hoped it would give him a challenge, present him an enemy worth fighting. Excitement coursed through his veins, riling him up, and it took some considerable self-control to tamp it down.

Alucard had never been one to pass up a good fight. Battle was his passion, an addiction that seemed to intensify as the years went by. The days of defensive castles, chivalric knights, and sharpened swords were long behind him. However, engaging an enemy never failed to inspire within him a sense of whimsical nostalgia. Just enough for him to get his fix.

He let his eye wander to the window, drinking in the pale blue sky outside. Indeed, it had been over five centuries since he ruled his own land as a warrior-prince. However, this was the closest he felt to his royal past in a very long time. Not only was he overdue for a real fight, but his time with Maria last night had unearthed some memories he had since buried deep in his mind.

The tart red liquid burned his throat as he took a sip. It had been at least a hundred years since he went to bed with a woman. Back then, the woman in question had ended up rejecting him from both her bedroom and her life, as he had a feeling she might. Abraham Van Helsing's influence on her almost assured it, but Alucard had pursued Mina against his better judgement. In the end, she was lost to him, and he had to live with the knowledge that her feelings for him were not enough to make her stay.

However, he did not have the same nagging feeling that something was going to go very wrong with Maria. Perhaps the way she had stood up to Anderson assured Alucard of her loyalty. Perhaps it was the countless times she told him he would be missed. Whatever it was, he was more at ease with her than he had been with Mina. Maria's goodbye reminded him of another time, before the incident with Mina and Van Helsing. She made him think of another world, wherein he had ridden to battle with the knowledge that his young bride would be waiting faithfully at home for him.

The smile on Alucard's face disappeared as his grip tightened dangerously on the stem of his glass. He lowered his gaze and tried to crush the budding memory with one affirmation: He would not allow himself to think of her. It had been years, centuries in fact, since he had last thought about her. She was part of his past and she would stay in the past. There was no use dwelling on her now, even if Maria did remind him a lot of her…

Alucard turned away from the window and took a full gulp of wine. He told himself again that he was not going to think about it. There were battles to fight, enemies to stop, and three women who were counting on him. The princess he once knew would simply have to return to the confines of his mind, where she had stayed quietly for centuries before he had met Maria Sartori.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

At the Hellsing Manor, Maria was bored. She tried to continue _Dracula_ , but her mind kept wandering. She had taken a walk around the manor, trying to appreciate the mansion's exquisite architecture, but all she could think about was Alucard, Seras, and Pip. She wondered if they were all right, and if they had landed yet. It was almost ten at night, and she had not heard any news from Integra. She had to find something to do, or she would go mad with worry.

Before long, her explorations led her to a beautiful library on the third floor. Unlike the cozy little reading room on the main floor, this room had high vaulted ceilings with white and gold moulding. Books that looked much too old to have been written in this century lined the countless shelves. The whole place smelled like old paper, and Maria was momentarily distracted by the beauty of it all.

As she made her way through the bookcases, she passed by a small study alcove. Tucked away in the corner was a polished desk, an antique loveseat, and a large television with a VCR. Maria made a note to go back to the alcove later if she found anything good to read.

A few steps away from the study area was a long aisle of bookcases with a sign overhead: _History- Non-Fiction_. Maria stopped and looked up at it, suddenly remembering Abraham Van Helsing's lecture on Count Dracula in Stoker's novel. She meant to ask Alucard about it, but she had been too scared of ruining their night together. Absentmindedly, she touched the tips of her fingers to her lips, remembering the feel of his mouth on hers. Yes, last night had been wonderful. It had not been worth souring by dredging up Alucard's past.

Still, Maria's curiosity had only been temporarily forgotten. She looked up at the sign again and gave a little shrug. Alucard was not here and the questions that looped in her mind were driving her crazy; she might as well hunt for some answers.

Luckily for Maria, her topic of interest was not hard to find. The shelves closest to the _History- Non-Fiction_ sign were crowded with Balkan folklore, the history of vampires and other monsters, demonology, and Eastern European history. Maria walked slowly down the aisle, scrutinizing each title until one of the books caught her eye.

It was a worn hardcover with a black book jacket and red title. The deep bends in the spine obscured the title except for one word: _Dracula._ Maria was disappointed at first, thinking she had only found another copy of Stoker's book. Nevertheless, she pulled the book out, flipped it over, and read the full title: _The Real Dracula._

The authors were two university professors, but that is not what sold Maria on the book. Instead, it was the cover art, which was nothing but a framed portrait of a man who looked strikingly familiar. Garbed in a fur mantel and bejewelled hat, the man seemed to stare out at the reader, his deep blue eyes seeming to both question and judge. His angular face was framed by two curtains of curly black hair, and the slightest hint of a frown played over his full mouth, above which sat a neatly trimmed moustache. Maria stared at the cover, feeling an unexpected rush. Without the facial hair, the medieval clothing, and the blue eyes, the person in the painting was clearly Alucard.

Only, he was human.

Without thinking to look at the other books, Maria tucked the volume under her arm and hurried back to the study alcove. She settled down on the loveseat and crossed her legs, but not before looking over her shoulder to make sure she was alone. She felt slightly guilty, like she was prying into Alucard's life when she had no business doing so. But, since he was one of the only people in her life she could trust now, she felt compelled to know more about him.

That was not all, though. He had referred to himself as a monster on more than one occasion, but she never really believed him. She knew there was something more to him, and now she finally had some answers beyond the half truths of Bram Stoker. With that, and a deep breath, Maria pushed the last shred of guilt from her mind and opened the book.

After reading the introduction, Maria could feel her heart begin to sink. This was not going to be a happy story. Even before the first chapter, the authors were already describing the world into which Alucard had been born as a bloody, unstable, and frightening time. Fifteenth century Romania had been divided into three kingdoms: Moldavia to the East, Transylvania to the West, and Wallachia just below them. South of the Danube River, the Ottoman Empire encroached on southernmost part of Romania, which Maria learned was ruled over by a prince named Vlad II Dracul. Wallachia had been at war with the Ottoman Turks for years, and in the midst of all the fighting, Dracul took a wife and sired two sons: The older one was named after him, thus becoming Vlad III, and the younger one was called Radu. The brothers grew up in Transylvania, dangerously close to the Hungarian border, while their father battled the "infidels" in the Balkans.

Maria skimmed the first chapter, trying to make sense of all the marriages and royal bloodlines when she ran across a picture of Dracul's two boys. On the page opposite a wall of text, a photocopied image of a Renaissance portrait took up the entire page. She held it close to her face and inspected the glossy, coloured page carefully.

One of the children was the most adorable little boy she had ever laid eyes on. He looked no more than six or seven, with soft, pudgy cheeks, large dark eyes, and smooth brown hair curling delicately below his chin. The older boy, however, was the exact opposite of his brother. Maria guessed he was about twelve or thirteen at the time of this painting, and even though he was well dressed, he did not strike her as terribly healthy or graceful. He looked skinny, pale, and his bright blue eyes seemed to dance with a sort of arrogant defiance that only a boy trying too hard to be a man could exhibit. Maria stared at the portrait with baited breath as she read the footnote at the bottom of the page: _The heirs to the Wallachian throne, Prince Radu cel Frumos and Prince Vlad III Dracula (c. 1444)_

A shiver ran up Maria's spine. She could hardly believe what she was looking at: The eldest boy, Prince Vlad III, was Alucard. If she did not see his nickname, Dracula, in the footnote, she would have still recognized him from the haughty glimmer in his eye and the way he held himself. This was her prince, before he had grown up, before he had become the vampire known as Alucard. He even had a Christian name.

"Vlad," Maria murmured to herself, testing it out. It was strange, calling him by that name, but it was his real name. She ran her thumb down the page, brushing over Alucard's face, as a strange sense of nostalgia welled up within her. "Vlad Dracula..."

As she read on, Maria discovered the painting of the two princes had been done just before Dracul gave them away to the Ottoman sultan, Murad. It was common practice in those days to exchange hostages as part of peace treaties, but Maria was horrified. How could Dracul have given his two little boys away? From what she understood, Vlad and Radu had been raised to hate the Turks, but then they were expected to live with them? It did not make sense.

Maria lowered the book and looked up at the vaulted ceiling. A frown played across her mouth as she compared her situation to Alucard's. Like him, she had grown up without her parents, but she never knew them. Even when Father Anderson told her that they died in a road accident, Maria could only feel pity for them and said a prayer for their souls that night. But Alucard- or Vlad- knew his parents, and her heart ached to image what he felt when his father abandoned him in Anatolia with the sultan.

Maria slid down onto her back and read on, unable to help her morbid curiosity. The entire story was reading like a bad accident: It was terrible, but she could not look away. She had to know what became of her prince and his darling little brother.

Just as she expected, life was not easy for Vlad in Sultan Murad's court. While Radu was well behaved and loved by all for his looks, his older brother was something of a problem child. According to the authors, he would defy every rule set out for him by his new masters: He refused to speak Turkish for the first two years of his captivity, he constantly broke his curfew, had no qualms about treating the children cruelly (including the favoured Radu), and on more than one occasion, he tried to run away. The punishments meted out to him were always severe, and often included a beating or a trip to the torture chamber to witness other's suffering.

Maria held the book away from her face, momentarily sickened by what she read. She tried to imagine what twisted soul would force a thirteen year old boy to watch someone else suffer. She could only imagine how frightened Alucard had been, or what that had done to his psyche.

A few pages later, Maria knew she made a mistake by continuing. The authors had yet another anecdote, something that they referred to as "the moment the young prince was finally broken." Maria gripped the sides of the volume. Did she want to read this? She knew that any story that started with someone getting "broken" was never good. And yet, she found herself reading on, because the authors presented some primary evidence: A correspondence from one of the sultan's eunuchs, who had witnessed Prince Vlad getting punished yet again. Although, this time, there was no mention of beatings or trips to the dungeon. Horrified, Maria devoured the guard's letter:

 _...And so, it did happen again. Dracul's son tried to escape, and this time, he had the audacity to steal the sultan's prized stallion. The silly fool tried to ride out of the stable in the dead of night, but only succeeded in letting all of the horses loose in his haste. There was a great commotion when we noticed, and the animals were naturally spooked. One of the steeds reared and came down on Mehmet, the sultan's heir. His wrist was snapped, but he was otherwise unharmed. Still, when this happened, the only person that was more enraged than Murad was his vizier, Ahmed. He volunteered to punish the boy for the sultan, which Muard allowed, as he was preoccupied with his son's injuries. I cannot say what occurred immediately after this, but near midnight, I saw the vizier drag the Wallachian brat by the hair into his bedroom. I was stationed by his door, and I shiver to imagine what unnatural things occurred within. When the boy emerged, he was weeping, and his tunic had been ripped to shameful tatters. And, as he limped to his own room, I prayed to God that He would judge Ahmed according to His law..._

Maria stared at the passage, hardly daring to believe the guard's words. The book began to shake, and that was when she noticed her hands were quivering. With a little cry, she threw the volume down and scrambled away from it. Her throat constricted painfully, and her mouth began to water. She was going to throw up.

Abandoning the book, Maria leapt off the couch and sped out of the library. She raced down the hallway with a hand over her mouth and stumbled into the first bathroom she could find. The door slammed closed as she rushed to the waiting toilet. She flung the seat up and leaned forward, her eyes screwing shut as her stomach heaved painfully. But, all that left her mouth was a terrible gag.

She breathed shallowly, cringing as her stomach roiled again. Another wave of nausea threatened to come up, but all she did was retch again. As she leaned over, her light-headedness got the better of her. She was on the floor in an instant, staring at the underside of the toilet bowl. That was when the tears came.

Maria sat up, brought her knees to her chest, and rested her head on her folded arms. She leaned back against the nearby cabinet and wept, hardly caring if anyone heard her. She felt as if she had just been punched. Her stomach hurt, her mind was a mess, and her heart was broken for Alucard.

As she sat there, crying, she wondered what kind of monster could do such a thing to an innocent child. She could hardly imagine the hurt and humiliation the evil vizier had put the little prince through, and when she tried, it only made her cry harder.

"Oh, Alucard..." she sobbed. "My poor, dear Alucard..."

Before long, her tears of sadness turned to tears of hate. She wanted to go back in time and shake Dracul by the shoulders for leaving his boys in Anatolia. She did not care if he was a ruler; no child should ever have to endure such a crime, even for the sake of their country. She found herself wishing she could confront the vizier and throw him in the dungeon for what he had done. More than anything, though, she wished she could meet the young Prince Vlad and take him away. She wanted to shield him, protect him, let him know that he was loved and cherished in the purest of ways. These thoughts ran through her mind over and over again, and like the guard who had written the letter, she found herself wishing the vizier would burn in Hell. She had never hoped for such a thing before, but she took exception with Ahmed.

Now, more than ever since she woke up, she wanted Alucard back home. He had not even been gone for a full day yet, but logic would not dictate her emotions this time. She wanted nothing more than to lie down, wrap her arms around him, and never let go. She knew a bit of cuddling could not erase the damage he sustained over the years, but what else could she do?

Maria did not know how long she sat on the floor for. She hardly moved, even when her knees began to ache and her thighs grew numb. She only uncurled her body and pushed herself to her feet when all of her tears were spent.

Feeling perfectly miserable, she left the bathroom and slowly made her way back to the library. The book remained where she had thrown it, Alucard's portrait on the front gazing intensely at her, as if he was irritated that she had run off. Sighing, she placed the book on the desk behind the couch and turned her back on it.

Maria glanced up at the television and reached for the remote, which was sitting on the coffee table in front of her. Perhaps some mindless entertainment would help get her mind off everything. The TV sang to life with a push of the button, but Maria quickly found there was nothing good on. She had no patience for reality shows, and every other channel was playing commercials. After a moment of channel surfing, she finally decided to settle on the news.

There was nothing interesting on the news, either. There was a report about a bridge collapsing in Malaysia, and some coverage on a fashion show taking place in London that week, but other than that, Maria was perfectly bored. She was tempted to switch back to the infomercials, but she did not touch the remote. She was trying to find the motivation to move, when suddenly, the screen lit up with crimson tickertape that read BREAKING NEWS.

"We interrupt this program with a special broadcast from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil," the anchorwoman announced as she hurriedly shuffled through some papers.

Maria's spine snapped taut at the sound of her words.

"BBC is currently receiving reports of a potential terrorist attack in a luxury hotel just off the coast of Guanabara Bay."

Maria's blood ran cold when she realized Alucard and Seras were probably stationed at a beachside hotel. Gripping the side of the couch, she breathed deeply through her nose. She had to calm down. There were many luxury resorts in Rio. What were the chances this was happening at Alucard's?

"We now go live to our South American correspondent, Sandro Guerrero."

The image on screen switched to a harried looking man standing in the middle of a crowded plaza. Behind him, a large, alabaster skyscraper rose into the starless night.

"Thank you, Jennifer," he said. "No less than half an hour ago, two terrorists killed a number of guests and staff at the hotel you see directly behind me. They have barricaded themselves in the penthouse, and SWAT teams are on high alert. So far, there have been no new developments, but we are on standby for anything that may happen."

Suddenly, Sandro Guerrero disappeared, only to be replaced by photos of the two "terrorists": A confused-looking Seras Victoria, and a sidelong shot of Alucard, perhaps as he had been turning away from the camera.

A sharp cry left Maria's throat before she could stop it. She clapped her hands over her mouth, hoping by some miracle this was a mistake. But, the longer Seras' and Alucard's images stayed on screen, the more the reality of it sunk in: They were in trouble, and she was powerless to do anything about it.

Eventually, the SWAT teams were sent in, and BBC chose to keep the camera rolling outside the hotel. Maria leaned forward, her blood rushing in her ears as she watched the heavily armed men enter the building. The more men that filed in, the closer her hands came together in silent prayer. Once they disappeared from sight, she began to murmur the Our Father, almost automatically, as she watched. It had been a while since she prayed, but she needed the strength to be brave now. She had to believe Alucard and Seras were going to be all right.

These hopes were shattered as soon as a commotion broke out on the topmost floor of the hotel. The camera swivelled up as the surrounding news casters and bystanders screamed. The windows of the penthouse burst into a million tiny shards, and the sound of gunfire rang out through the night. When Maria saw a puddle of thick red blood oozing out from the destroyed sill, she leapt from the couch and ran out of the library as fast as she could.

She raced down the hall, calling frantically for Integra. She had no idea where the heiress was, or if she was even aware of what was going on. Fear nipped at her heels and chased her down the stairs. She could hardly breathe, but she continued to run, desperate to find Alucard's master. Maria was about to scream for her again, when she skidded around a corner and nearly bumped into two men.

"Whoa! Slow down," one of them said, reaching out to steady her. Maria looked up and recognized them as Hugh and Etienne, two of the Wild Geese she had had breakfast with earlier that morning.

"Integra is where?" she panted. "I must speak with her."

"I believe she's in her office," Etienne offered, furrowing his brow. "Why? What's wrong, Miss Sartori?"

Maria shook her head. "I cannot explain now. I must find her."

She left the mercenaries without another word, too panicked to excuse herself politely. She surged back up the stairs and barrelled down the main hall, until she reached the door of Integra's office. Without knocking, the young woman grasped the brass handles and pulled the double doors open.

The darkness nearly swallowed her whole as she hurried inside. The massive windows behind the bureau allowed the light of the full moon to spill into the office, sharply outlining Integra's and Walter's silhouettes. The heiress turned away from the window and glanced over her shoulder at the sound of Maria's approach. Although her face was hidden in the dark, she did not appear to be perturbed in any way.

"Sir Integra," Maria said breathlessly. "A terrible thing is happening- I saw on the _televisione_. Alucard and Seras, they-"

Integra held up her hand. "It's all right, Maria," she murmured. "We know. We're handling it right now."

Maria glanced at them both, her heavy breathing the only noise in the room. Of course they knew what was going on. She should have realized that they would have been the first ones to know.

"But, then," she started. "What will happen? How can we know they are safe?"

"I'm fairly certain their safety isn't an issue," Integra told her.

"But, I seen the blood," Maria insisted. "On the news channel, I saw from the window, there was blood, and-"

"Calm down," Integra interrupted. "I know what it looks like, but you have to understand that-"

The Hellsing leader was cut off when the phone on her desk began to ring. Everyone fell silent and looked at it, the little red bulb lighting up with each piercing trill.

"Someone is calling the direct line," Walter murmured. "Do you think it's-"

Integra gestured for him to be silent and approached the desk. She bent over the phone, hit the flashing button, and asked, "Who is it?"

"It's your humble servant, Sir Integra."

A rush of air filed Maria's lungs. That was Alucard's voice. He was all right. She suddenly felt like crying in relief.

"Give me my orders, Master."

Maria glanced at Integra, expecting to see a similar expression of relief on her face. Instead, she thought Integra looked rather pale, and her blue eyes were wide and uneasy behind her glasses. She looked almost… scared? Maria's smile vanish. She had never seen Integra look so unsure of herself before.

"… What did you do to that SWAT team?" the heiress asked softly.

"I killed them."

Maria gasped. His admission horrified her, chilled her to the bone, but his tone of voice was worse. Alucard sounded so flippant, so unfeeling, as if he did not care about the value of human life at all. Maria had seen the SWAT team file into the hotel with her own eyes. There were a lot of policemen, and her prince had killed them all in cold blood?

"I slaughtered them like cattle. There's not one left standing."

Maria's chest tightened, and her stomach churned dangerously, like it had done earlier. But, this feeling was worse. After reading her book, she had been heartbroken. Now, she was terrified. This did not sound like the man she knew and cared for.

"Now, all that I require is your order, Sir Integra. I believe the senior officials of the local police are under Millennium's control.

"These people who stand against me may be innocent humans, but I will kill them," Alucard promised. "I'm ready to strike them down without a moment's hesitation or the slightest hint of regret!"

Maria turned away, fighting the urge to cover her ears.

"I'm a monster, and I will do what needs to be done. But, what will you do, Sir Integra? My guns are prepared for battle, my sights are trained, my magazine is fully loaded…"

Directly ahead of her, Maria could see the doors, standing ajar, inviting her to escape this madness. She needed to go. She could not bear to hear another word out of him. All night, she was worrying about him, weeping bitter tears for the things he had suffered in the past. Now, she realized she should have been crying for the SWAT team who ignorantly followed Millennium's orders.

She was about to leave, but something Alucard said made her stop in her tracks. She glanced over her should and listened intently.

"… You must be the one to pull the trigger. So, what will you do? I'm waiting for orders, my master, Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing…"

His voice trailed off, and Maria immediately disliked the insinuation. He sounded like he was taunting Integra, challenging her. Maria glanced at the heiress, trying to read her face. Yes, Integra certainly had to make a decision now, but which? What was the right to do?

With a little sigh, Integra sat down in her chair, deigning not to answer Alucard. Maria watched as she reached into her desk drawer and produced a cigar, which went immediately into her mouth. She lit it and breathed deeply. Maria did not say a word. She could only watch as Integra sat there in silence, letting the cigar burn. The tension in the room threatened to crush them all.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash as Integra's chair flew back into the wall behind her. The Hellsing leader was on her feet in an instant, her hands planted on the desk, her cigar tossed aside. Maria jumped back, frightened by the viciousness of Integra's expression.

"Don't you _dare_ question my resolve," she shouted. "I've already given you your marching orders, solider: You will search and destroy, search and destroy! Any resistance you encounter is to be crushed! Hellsing does not run from our enemies- _Kill them all!_ I order you to leave nothing but bloody stains in your wake!"

Maria gaped at her, wondering for a moment if she was trapped in some terrible nightmare. She had never seen Integra lose her composure before. The woman was enraged, practically frenzied, and thirsty for her enemies' blood. Where was the dignified and collected woman Maria had come to know? Did she even know any of these people?

While Maria stood there in a stunned silence, Alucard gave a hearty laugh.

"The final veil removed!" he said. "This is excellent news, indeed. You still know how to inspire my passion, Integra."

Almost as quickly as shock had gripped Maria, it fell away to be replaced by an even worse feeling. Her face grew hot, and a heavy, leaden feeling weighed down her heart. Did she hear Alucard correctly? She glanced up at the panting Integra and let herself get carried away on a current of jealousy. Alucard had never said anything like that to her...

"Then by your orders, my master, I hope you enjoy the show."

And with that, Alucard hung up the phone.

A heavy silence filled the room. All eyes were on Integra as she stood over the phone, staring at it, as if in a trance. Maria did not move from her place as she tried to make sense of what she had just heard. It was hard to think clearly when the haze of jealousy clouded her mind, though. Integra must have sensed it too, because when she looked up and caught Maria's eye, she immediately snapped at her.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. He was talking about his passion for battle, and nothing more. Don't be an idiot, Maria."

The young woman almost cringed. The last thing she wanted to do was agitate Integra even more. However, she could not deny the flood of relief that cooled her cheeks and calmed her mind. She would have felt more embarrassed for having jumped to conclusions, but there was too much going on in her head already. It was enough to know that she was not being played for a fool in at least one sense.

"Now," Integra continued testily, "I understand why you were concerned earlier, but now I need you to leave me so I can do my work. You've heard from Alucard, and there's nothing more you can do. There's no use worrying now."

Knowing she was no longer welcome in the office, Maria could only nod and say quietly, "Yes, Sir Integra. I thank you."

As she walked down the hall, Maria tried not to drown in her thoughts. She had discovered so many things that night, and she almost wished she had not. How was she supposed to feel, knowing half of Rio de Janeiro might be slaughtered by tomorrow thanks to Alucard? The way he promised to kill innocents if need be, the memory of the excited inflection in his voice, made Maria shiver. Was this the man she had chosen to share her bed with? She had been so enthralled of him before, even after she saw him kill Luke Valentine. But, she would have never thought he was capable of killing innocent people. She had to wonder if she would really let a murderer touch her body with bloodstained hands. Her mind screamed _NO_ at her, and the feeling that he had somehow betrayed her was hard to ignore.

But, as she entered her room, her eyes went immediately to her bed. She stared at it, imagining thirteen year old Vlad Dracula sitting on the mattress, tugging at his patterned kaftan and wishing for an ermine mantle instead. Maria closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. The child she imagined to be sitting on her bed had never been taught right from wrong. Without parents to guide him, without a safe and secure way of life, morals meant nothing to him. Survival had been his top priority, even if it meant stepping on other people's heads to achieve it.

Maria slowly opened her eyes, which burned with fresh, unshed tears. She had a lot to think about.

* * *

 **Ugh. That was a hard chapter to write. People experience strong, conflicting emotions all the time, but it's hard to put it all down on paper sometimes. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! As always, thanks for your patience, and I'll see you on the next page ;)**


	15. A Glimpse into Hell

**Hello, faithful readers! I hope February's been treating you all nicely(how many more days until Spring Break?) Anywho, since I haven't done this in a while, here are a few shoutouts to some of my dear reviewers:**

 **GirlWhoLovesFanfiction : You're a very patient and thorough reviewer, and I'm very happy that you're still reading! I hope the following chapters deliver all you hoped for!**

 **DarkOldDemon:** **Your review was absolutely heart-warming to read. Please, don't ever be shy to tell me what you think or offer constructive criticism! Like I tell many of my readers, half the reason I know I'm on track and keeping everyone in-character is because of your input. So, thank you!**

 **Akuma: Yes, they certainly are peeping toms! However, I'm very sorry that my rating threw you off. The reason why I rated this fic "M" wasn't because of the gore. Since it's a romance story, the rating was for something else entirely, something that hasn't come to pass yet. However, I'm happy you gave my story a chance, despite the rating, and I'm glad you're enjoying it! (Also, your"rant"- it's not a rant- did not offend me in the least! I like to hear whatever my readers have to say).**

 **All right, that's enough for now. Let's pick up where we left off...**

* * *

The interrogation room was hidden deep in the cellars of Saint Peter's Basilica. None of the laity knew of it, and even the low-ranking Vatican priests had no idea. The only people who knew of the dungeon were the members of Iscariot, the cardinals, and the Pope himself.

The small, dim room was empty except for two men: One was Enrico Maxwell, who was waiting to interrogate a priest he suspected of collaborating with the Nazis years ago. The other was Father Alexander Anderson, who had nearly flipped the table after hearing a few choice words leave the bishop's mouth.

"You can't be serious!" the priest cried.

Maxwell glanced up from his folded hands. "Oh, but I am."

He unlaced his fingers and tapped them on the table. "It's an order, Anderson. His Holiness agreed to fly the members of Hellsing out of Rio de Janeiro once their mission was complete."

"Mission?" Anderson repeated. "Do you honestly think that circus we all saw on television was a real mission? It was a slaughter, an excuse for senseless butchery. And the fact that you would order me to hand deliver the release notice to the goddamn monster for a 'job well done' is more than insulting."

Maxwell leaned back in his chair, eyeing Anderson for a moment. "Father," he said slowly, "I think this has more to do with Maria choosing that 'goddamn monster' over you than anything else… Am I wrong?"

Anderson gritted his teeth, glaring at Maxwell. It had been nearly a week since the confrontation at the museum, and Anderson was still seething with rage over the fact that Maria was involved with Alucard. When he returned to Rome, he had tried not to miss her or worry about her. After all, she now had her precious vampire to protect her from Millennium. If she wanted to damn her soul with such an ungodly union, that was her prerogative, and Anderson repeatedly had to remind himself that he did not care anymore.

Still, when he watched the news broadcast from Brazil, he had been unpleasantly shocked by Alucard's brutality. He knew Hellsing would put up a good fight in Rio de Janeiro, but when Anderson saw how easy it was for the vampire to kill those ignorant policemen, his blood boiled. He had stared at the TV and asked himself, _Is that really who Maria fell for?_ He had been so angry that night, he could not sleep.

Now, in the dungeon below the basilica, the anger was back, and with it, the humiliation of having to help the creature who had taken Maria away. Anderson wanted desperately to disobey the order, but at the same time, the idea of another confrontation with Alucard gave him a sort of grim pleasure.

"Listen to me, Maxwell," Anderson said, raising a warning finger. "If you send me to deliver the release papers, I promise I'll kill him."

Maxwell heaved an exasperated sigh. "Really, you must let this go. Forget about Maria, and forget what she's done. You said it yourself: She's a lost cause, no longer worth your time or energy. Now, you're going to deliver these forms without incident, as was commanded by His Holiness, and then you will report back here."

Before Anderson could reply, a knock cut him off. The two men turned to see the door open a crack. Heinkel Wolfe poked her head into the room, her spectacles catching the light of the hanging lamp.

"Bishop, we're ready," she said.

Maxwell smiled at her. "Bring him in."

Then, turning back to Anderson, he murmured, "Don't fail us in this, Anderson. You have your orders, now don't mix emotions and politics."

With a stiff nod, Anderson took his leave, brushing past a nervous priest, who was being led into the interrogation room by a handful of black-clad Iscariot members. As he walked down the dark corridor, his footstep echoed off the thick stone walls. He listened to the sound, counting each step as he tried to calm himself down.

"Well," he murmured to himself as he approached the staircase, "Maxwell never said anything about throwing a punch."

He tried to smile, but his mouth twisted into what felt like a grimace. As he ascended the steps, he tried not to think of Maria, though his efforts only led him to fantasize more about the non-lethal violence he would visit upon Alucard. It was not the revenge he dreamed of, but at least it was something. After all, not even the Pope could prevent him from decking the vampire square in the face if he wished to.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was nearly three in the afternoon, but Maria had still not gone downstairs for breakfast. After almost four nights of pacing, racing thoughts, and insomnia, she had crashed at two in the morning last night. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed _The Real Dracula_ lying open on the floor near her bed. Unable to remember what she had read the night before, the first thing she did was grab the book and flip back a few pages.

A heavy sense of uneasiness settled in her heart as she reread the chapter: After years of being under the sultan's thumb, Prince Vlad finally escaped Anatolia and fled to Hungary on the eve of his eighteenth birthday.

As far as Maria could tell, the Hungarians were no more trustworthy than the Turks. The Hungarian king, Jonas Hunyadi, constantly encroached on Transylvanian territory owned by Vlad's father. The dastardly king had even taken the dispute so far as to have Dracul murdered only three years after Vlad had gone to live in Anatolia. Still, Maria was shocked to read that, despite this obvious bad blood, Hunyadi was willing to help Vlad become the ruler of Wallachia. However, there was a catch: In exchange for the military aid, Vlad would be expected to marry Hunyadi's niece when she came of age.

On the next page, Maria found a full colour print of the Hungarian princess. She rolled onto her stomach and moved the book into the sunlight so she could get a better look at the woman who had been Alucard's wife.

The princess was very young in the painting, not a day over seventeen. She was not conventionally pretty, Maria thought, but her sharp brown eyes, aquiline nose, and the hint of a smile that pulled at her bow-shaped mouth lent her an air of charm. Her thick black curls were wound about her head and adorned with strings pearls. As Maria let her gaze travel down the length of the princess' bodice, she was startled to see another pair of eyes staring back at her.

Maria recoiled from the book and quickly realized that the princess was not alone in the portrait: Cradled in her arms was a round, blue-eyed infant with a shock of black hair and an up-turned nose. She was swaddled in a white cloth, and her legs seemed to disappear under the folds of her mother's sleeves. Maria stared at the pair of them for a moment, when she lowered her gaze and read the footnote.

 _Ilona Szilagyi, wife of Vlad Dracula, and their daughter, the princess Ruxandra (d. 1462)_

The longer Maria looked at the portrait of mother and child, the sadder she grew. She half expected to feel irrationally jealous that Alucard had been married. However, there appeared to be no more room in her mind for such petty feelings. After days of agonizing over his past and what to do about his present, all Maria could pay attention to was the date at the end of the footnote: d. 1462.

As a familiar tightness settled into her throat, Maria flipped to the back of the book and scanned the index. Upon finding Ilona's name, she located a few choice pages, and read on.

The chapter that spoke the most on Ilona and Ruxandra was entitled _The Beginning of the End._ From what Maria could gather, Alucard had successfully won the throne of Wallachia and defended his kingdom at all costs. Even as his reputation as a bloodthirsty impaler grew, the authors suggested that he found some solace in his home life. It appeared that he truly cared about his young wife, and even more for their little girl, despite sons being preferred in that time.

Indeed, Wallachia flourished under Vlad Dracula's rule. But, Maria was disheartened to read that it all came crashing down in the summer of 1462. The Turks began encroaching on land dangerously close to the Wallachian border, and Vlad did not hesitate to declare war on them. Within a month, he readied his troops and rode out across the Danube to meet his old enemies.

Sadly, it had been a trap.

Maria's stomach twisted as she read about how the small force across the river had been a decoy; a sizeable Turkish force had snuck through occupied Serbia and sprung a surprise attack on the seat of Vlad's power, the city of Tirgoviste.

With the men gone, and their leader absent, the city fell to Turkish hands immediately. The castle was taken with sickening ease, though they had no qualms about painting the walls with the blood of innocents.

Although the authors would not specify, it was clear that little Ruxandra had not survived the attack, and Maria did not want to think on it. If she did, she would never stop crying.

Reading about Ilona's death was even worse because the authors did provide some details: After losing her daughter, Ilona escaped the invaders' clutches via a secret passageway in the throne room. Still, when she emerged, she ran into a handful of Turkish soldiers. They pursued her up to the highest tower of the castle, where, in a moment of panic and grief, she threw herself over the balustrade and into the Ialomita River below.

Thus, the authors decided to end the story there. Vlad was captured across the Danube, dragged back to Tirgoviste in chains to see his home in ruins and his family dead. Once he was executed, Radu cel Frumos, who had stayed loyal to the Turks, became the Prince of Wallachia and ruled as a Turkish puppet until his death.

With that final anecdote, Maria closed the book and put it aside. She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the tears that leaked from her eyes and pooled in the shells of her ears.

Despite what the esteemed authors concluded, she knew they were wrong. She knew that the execution of Vlad III Dracula had gone awry somehow. At some point, he became a vampire, and he hid himself away in the Carpathians while his brother ruined the kingdom. She knew that Alucard had spent hundreds of years alone, perhaps thinking about the death of his wife and child over and over again until it drove him mad.

Maria screwed her eyes shut and rubbed them, but all she could see behind her eyelids was the ruined landscape of Tirgoviste and the lifeless bodies of Ilona and Ruxandra floating in the nearby river. When she covered her ears, she could still hear was the agonized screams of the dead. When she sniffed to clear her nose, she could smell the acrid stench of gunpowder from the cannons, and when she coughed, she could almost taste the victims' blood. This had been Alucard's last experience as a human, she told herself. That was his world. It was a nasty, brutal, and tumultuous world, and in the end, he had lost everything.

Maria tossed aside her covers, leapt off bed, and strode into the bathroom. She flicked on the light, blew her nose, and washed her face. As she scrubbed, she resolved to put any and all thoughts of Alucard's past from her mind. It was too much for her to bear. She had shed too many tears that week, and she was exhausted. The truth was terrible, and the entire story of Alucard's past had only served to complicate her feelings for him, but she had to stop. If she wept anymore, she was going to go mad with grief. What she had to do now was decide whether she could accept this about him. Never mind pitying him and wanting to take the pain away, she told herself. From a realistic standpoint, she wondered if she could deal with Alucard's past. That bloody display on the news a few days ago was indication enough that he still carried a lot of baggage from his human life. Was he worth it? Did she want to try? Could she handle him and his problems?

After patting her face dry with a towel, Maria faced the mirror and wondered what to do with herself, but she could barely focus. She stared past the glass, wondering about her fate and when she would get to see Alucard again.

She was so preoccupied that when the bathroom door opened, she was so startled she let out a little yell.

"Are you all right?" Integra asked, as she stepped into the bathroom. "I knocked three times, but you didn't answer."

"I-I am sorry," Maria stammered, turning her back on the mirror. "I was… _distratta_ …"

"Well, I have some news that may sharpen you up a little," Integra said. "Thanks to your Vatican's initiative, Alucard, Seras, and Mr. Bernadotte are on their way home now. They should be landing by early this evening."

Maria's heart leapt at Integra's words. All at once, she felt elated and terrified.

"They are coming home?" she breathed. "Then, they are safe?"

Integra chuckled. "Quite safe, Maria. Alucard fulfilled his mission, and he'll be giving us a full report on his findings tonight in front of Her Majesty, the Queen. Representatives from the Round Table and Iscariot will be there, and so will you."

"Me?" Maria said. "But, why? I did nothing for this mission."

"While that is true, you are nevertheless involved. Millennium is looking for you, and hiding that information from the Queen would be nothing short of treason. Besides," Integra added as she flashed Maria a smile, "I'm sure you'll want to see Alucard again, won't you?"

Maria's mouth went dry. Her immediate instinct was to reply with "yes", but the events of the past week threw up a wall and blocked her. Only moments ago, she was questioning whether she could even be with him, and now she would have to face him. It was too fast. She needed more time to think it over.

"Well, in any case," Integra said, breaking the uneasy silence, "whatever you do, just remember that you're in the presence of our monarch. Emotional greetings won't do for the kind of meeting we're going to attend."

Maria swallowed down hard and nodded. "I understand."

"Good." Integra turned and made her way out of the bathroom, adding over her shoulder, "Now, go eat something and get yourself ready. We're meeting the delegates at Parliament at six o' clock sharp."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The hall in which the Hellsing and Iscariot members were meeting was unlike any hall Maria had ever seen. The ceiling soared dozens of feet above her head, held up by carved pillars. In the middle of the cold, stone room, a handful of men sat at a long table, eyeing her curiously. Maria watched Integra stride past the delegates and up to a raised platform, where the silhouette of a tall throne lay in shadow. Maria squinted her eyes, trying to make out the woman sitting in the seat, when she heard a loud whisper from the table.

"She's the one I was talking about."

Maria turned and saw none other than Enrico Maxwell sitting there, leaning on his elbows with his head slightly inclined towards his neighbour. When her gaze clashed with his, he offered her an icy little smile and leaned back in his chair. Maria was about to turn away when the person standing behind Maxwell's chair caught her eye.

Off to the side, leaning on a nearby pillar, was a blonde, bespectacled woman in a priest's cassock and trench coat. Although at first, she appeared to be just another cleric, Maria recognized that messy haircut and perpetual scowl more than ever before.

"Heinkel?" she blurted out. "Heinkel Wolfe?"

The woman cocked her head to the side at the sound of her name. Although she wore glasses with tinted lenses, Maria could feel her old acquaintance's eyes bore into her. Ignoring, Maxwell's hawk-like gaze, Maria rounded the table, approached Heinkel.

"So, it's true, isn't it?" she asked in Italian. "There are more people from Saint Ferdinand's in Iscariot?"

Without turning to look at Maria, Heinkel muttered out of the corner of her mouth, "More than you know."

Maria shook her head, incredulous. Heinkel was two years younger than Maxwell, but she had been one of the only people in the orphanage who got along with him. Oftentimes, Maria would see them read scripture together when they were supposed to be supervising Maria's age group in the playground. She had never particularly disliked Heinkel, even though she did whatever Maxwell said. However, her feelings towards Maria had clearly changed.

"And is what I've heard true?" Heinkel gave the young woman a sidelong glance, her green-grey eyes cold and hard like gemstones. "You're here for running off with a monster?"

Maria felt her face turn red. She was about to deny Heinkel's guess, but she thought better of it when she realized that she was partly right. Instead, Maria sighed and asked, "Is that what Father Anderson told you?"

Heinkel scanned the room, as if she was searching for the very monster she spoke of in the shadows. "The bishop told me everything. Really, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. A vampire, of all things, Maria!"

Maria glared at the woman priest. "Are you going to try to tell me that my feelings are wrong?" she demanded a little too loudly. "Because I don't want to hear it, Heinkel."

"Listen," the other woman snapped, turning to her. "If you're so intent on sleeping with the enemy, then I can't help you. But, do you not see how this affects Father Anderson?"

"So you did talk to him," Maria said under her breath.

"I do not understand how you could have done that to him," Heinkel continued, her whispers coming out as hisses. "That man gave everything to raise us, and this is how you repay him?"

A few of the members of the Round Table threw curious glances at the whispering pair. Maxwell turned around in his chair and glared daggers at them. Maria sighed and bowed her head towards Heinkel.

"You're right. It isn't your business to 'help me'," she said in a low voice. "But you weren't there at the museum; you have no right to judge me on what happened. By the way, did Father Anderson mention the part where he _threw me in a bloody closet_?"

Heinkel took off her glasses and turned towards Maria. She was about to speak, but her words were drowned out by the front doors suddenly being thrown open. Maria jumped and spun around to see none other than Alucard, Seras, and Pip in the doorway.

"We have returned to you, my master."

Alucard's voice filled the hall and sent a shiver through Maria's body. She stepped away from Heinekl and peeked over Maxwell's head at the trio.

"Well executed, my servant," Integra congratulated him from her place at the table. "The queen awaits you. Remove your glasses."

Alucard did as he was told and stepped into the room. Maria watched him make his way past the long table. She took another step forward as he moved parallel to her, hands clutched to her chest, his footsteps echoing in her head. Would he notice her? Was it really the time to hope for such a thing? Should she have wished for it?

As her thoughts raced, he shot her a guarded glance. Maria's heart pounded in her chest.

As soon as Alucard approached the platform, two bodyguards rushed to block his way. Without so much as a moment's hesitation, the vampire knocked their heads together and proceeded on his way. Maria jumped back and glanced down at the writhing bodies on the ground. Now she remembered why she was having doubts about Alucard.

"It's been a very long time, vampire." A soft voice floated up from the shadow of the throne. "Come closer. Let me look at you."

The young woman looked up to see Alucard kneeling before the Queen of England, a fair yet wizened woman of about seventy. Maria craned her neck to see the monarch reach out and cup the vampire's face.

"All these years, and you haven't aged a day, Alucard," she murmured. "Unfortunately, time's march has not been as kind to me. Can you believe how quickly I became an old woman?"

Alucard was quick to answer, "I still see the same spirited young woman I met fifty years ago, Your Majesty. In fact, to my eyes, time has made you even more beautiful..."

Maria lowered her gaze and crossed her arms. As she took a few steps away from the table, she tried to fight off the jealousy creeping into her heart. He was just being polite, she told herself. And, as she leaned against a pillar, she asked herself why she should be so bothered. Was she not questioning earlier whether she even wanted him? He had, after all, just knocked two poor men out before complimenting the queen. The jealousy dissipated as Maria remembered this was simply how he had been taught: Keep a basic chivalric code, but damn the rest. She could feel her heart sinking, weighed down by pity, when Alucard's strong voice cut through the room once again.

"Fifty-five years ago, a deranged Nazi major attempted to breed a vampire army..."

Maria turned back and saw him on his feet facing the delegates. She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she was missing the proceedings of the meeting.

Alucard descended the stairs and told his audience a story Maria had already heard: In 1944, he and Walter almost destroyed Millennium, but a handful of Nazis managed to escape. Now, their numbers were replenished, and they were intent on completing their "original mission." Maria had no clue what that meant, but Alucard's words raised goose bumps on her skin. And, she could not help but wonder where she fit into all of this. Ever since the night of her kidnapping, she had not forgotten Luke Valentine's words: _"It's not really a question of what I want, but what one of our associates wants."_ She could never imagine what business the Nazis could have with her, and she did not like to dwell on it. Of course, she should have known she would have to face the problem, eventually. But, it was easier to ignore it momentarily.

"I guess Mr. Tubalcain's filthy blood must have given us away."

An unfamiliar voice broke the tension in the room. Startled, Maria turned and saw a young boy standing by the front doors, which happened to be closed. She stared at him, trying to understand how he could have come in without opening the noisy doors, when she noticed two fuzzy grey triangles on the boy's fair head. Maria's mouth fell open.

"... Ears?" she muttered to herself.

The boy offered the room a fanged smile and placed his hands on his hips. "The Major sure blew that one!"

The rattle of weaponry filled the room. Maria glanced over her shoulder to see that Heinkel had drawn two pistols, and Pip was aiming a revolver straight at the child's head. Maria dashed off to the side, not wishing to be in their range of fire.

"Whoa there!" the boy said, raising his hands. Slowly, he walked further into the room. "I'm just the messenger! I'm not here to fight anyone."

"Explain this," Integra commanded, glaring at the youth.

To this, Walter leaned over a said, "My deepest apologies, ma'am. I don't know how he got past security."

The boy stopped short of the table and produced a portable television screen seemingly out of nowhere. With that smile ever present on his face, he set the device on the table and said, "They are useless against me. I am everywhere and nowhere."

Maria gaped at the child, still trying to comprehend why he had cat ears on his head. Just as she was trying to figure out if they were even real, she finally noticed his manner of dress: Mustard yellow shirt, black shorts, red swastika around his left sleeve... It was the uniform of the Hitler Youth. Maria recognized the dress code from her high school history textbooks. He was with Millennium.

Even so, Maria could not bring herself to feel anything but shocked. As she watched him bid Seras a flirty hello, Maria wondered just how old this boy was. If she had to wager a guess, he looked barely fourteen or fifteen. The fact that a young person was involved with such a horrible group made her rather sad.

When a hush fell over the room once again, the boy turned back to the delegates and made his announcement.

"To the gathered representatives of the Vatican and Great Britain, my commanding officer, the glorious Major, has a message for all of you. Please attend carefully."

With a look of sheer glee on his face, the youth pointed a remote at the screen and hit the power button. The television hissed, but nothing appeared on screen. Curious, Maria crept out of the shadows as the boy struggled with the clicker. She could hear a faint voice coming from the device, though it was obscured by an odd background noise.

"What's going on? There's no picture!" the accented voice complained. "Warrant Office Schrodinger, the screen is not working."

The background noise grew louder, and though Maria could not see anything, she was horrified to recognize the sound: It was a panicked voice. Some poor soul was begging for his life, and this unseen person, the Major, was ignoring it. Maria froze in her tracks, though she could not look away as the screen buzzed to life.

As the cries for help continued, a portly, blonde man appeared onscreen. Maria had barely enough time to catch the malicious little smile on his face before the scene cut to something else: A pile of dismembered, bloody corpses strewn haphazardly on a grotty floor. Maria clapped a hand over her mouth and looked away before she could throw up.

"Major!" exclaimed the boy named Schrodinger. "Looks like you really got your hands full."

"No, things are going well," the Major replied lightly. "It feels as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I'm feeling _great_ , in fact!"

Maria screwed her eyes shut as her mouth began to water. She did not expect anything less than barbarity from the Nazis, but seeing the extent of their cruelty in real life was almost too much to handle. The casual way the Major and Schrodinger were talking only served to compound her disgust.

She barely heard the footsteps approaching her, but when a hand brushed her shoulder, she flinched and looked up. Alucard gave her a passing touch, but he did not stop to console her. She lowered her hands and watched him approach the television, a cold smile playing over his lips.

"Hello, Major."

"Alucard, I'm so happy to see you again!" the Nazi greeted him. "It's been really far too long."

"What is it that you want?" Integra demanded before her servant could respond with any more mock niceties.

At this, Maria tucked a stand of hair behind her ear and inclined her head. She wanted to hear this too. She had to know what Millennium's reason for doing all of this was, even if it terrified her.

However, the Major was not ready to talk business. He merely offered Integra a smile and said, "Oh, finally! Face to face with the _fraulein_ herself! Sir Integra Hellsing, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"What's the purpose of this?" Integra asked, ignoring the greeting. "What are you trying to accomplish? Answer me!"

Maria crept up beside Alucard and stared at the screen. She held her breath and waited for the Major to answer.

"The... purpose?" he repeated, his glasses flashing in the dim studio light. "What a silly question, my beautiful _fraulein_... Purpose, how quaint!.. To put it in the simplest possible terms, _fraulein_ , our purpose is a total absence of purpose."

Maria felt her inside fall away to nothing. She exhaled heavily and tried to balance herself as the Major elaborated. They had no reason for doing this, she wondered? That could not be a serious answer...

The screen flickered, and the Major disappeared. Instead, the image of a bound and gagged man came into view. He had a German sign around his neck and a look of utter terror in his eyes. Maria dropped her gaze and concentrated on her feet, counting her breaths in and out. The collective roar of a pack of unseen monsters burst from the speakers, only to mingle with the muffled screams of the terrified man as they tore him apart. A violent shudder ran through Maria's body, and she fought to keep her vision from tunneling

"Oh, wow!" she heard Schrodinger say. "I didn't think your decision would be that harsh, sir!"

"Enough," Integra snapped at him before turning back to the screen. The gory display had been cut, and the Major was back. "And what about Maria?" she asked. "What do you want with her?"

Maria looked up when she heard her name, only to see the Major's eyebrow rise up his forehead.

"Oh, is she with you now?" he asked excitedly. "How wonderful! Please, do show her to me. I'm terribly curious about the young _fraulein_. Warrant Officer Schrodinger, if you please, turn the screen."

Maria mouth fell open, but no words of protest left her lips. She stood there, paralyzed, as Schrodinger obeyed his superior. Suddenly, Maria found herself face to face with the monster that threatened her life. Unable to breathe, she merely gaped as the Major looked her up and down with a delighted grin.

"Ah, there you are," he said. "Maria Sartori, the one who got away! At last, we finally meet."

" _Che..._ " Maria began hoarsely, but the Major talked over her.

"My, my, what a beautiful young woman you are!" And, with an icy little grin, he added, "Any man worthy enough to receive your attentions is quite the fortunate man, indeed!"

Maria drew in a sharp breath. The Major chuckled and gave her a knowing wink. The gesture repelled her, and though she was stunned into silence, her mind was screaming. How could he have known about her relationship with Alucard? Maria dared not look at him in front of the Nazi, though she could have sworn she heard a small growl churn in his throat.

"What was the point of dragging her into this?" Integra demanded again. "If you truly have no purpose, then why did you choose to involve her?"

The Major's grin broadened into a smile. His eyes darted in the direction of Integra's voice, and he answered, "Ah, but you misunderstand, _mein fraulein_. I did not choose to seek out our dear little Maria; it was someone else. Her fate is irrevocably entwined with the Last Battalion's, but she is not directly connected to me. I truly wish I could tell you more, but it really isn't my place to do so. I never deigned to partake in gossip, anyway!"

"Th-Then, tell me," Maria said, her quivering voice echoing through the hall. The Major turned his empty gaze back to her, and her breath caught in her throat.

"If you will not speak to Integra," she continued, "then tell me. I must know why you do this."

The Major let out a piercing little laugh, a sound that almost seemed to mock her. "Such impatience! I really do wonder where you Italian women get it from. Well, do forgive me, _fraulein_ , but the answer is no. You will come to understand in time. And, when you do, you'll thank me for not giving it all away in a moment of ill-timed passion."

Maria was too frustrated by his response to catch the double entendre. She was trying to think of something to say in response, something that would not put her in more danger than she already was, when Maxwell spoke.

"You're insane. All of you."

"Did I just hear someone from Iscariot questioning my sanity?" the Major asked.

Knowing his master's address to Maria was done, Schrodinger turned the screen back toward the end of the table.

As the Major spoke down to Maxwell, Maria tried to ignore the heavy, sobering feeling that she had just been violated somehow. She immediately wished that she had never come to this meeting, or that she had at least refused to let the Major see her. The fact that he knew so much about her was disturbing, and for a moment, she found herself wishing this is all an awful nightmare, until the Major caught her attention again.

"… My true enemy is Britain, the Hellsings," he was saying. Then, after a thought, he added, "Well, really, it's that man laughing in the corner back there!"

All eyes went in Maria's direction, and it took her a moment to realize that they were not looking at her. She followed the collective gaze to the man by her side. Alucard was doubled over, clutching his chest, as if he was trying to keep his laughter to himself. His efforts were in vain, though. He practically descended into hysterics, and as Maria watched, she began to worry about him.

"A declaration of war- Excellent!" Alucard said to the Major. "I can't wait to destroy you again!"

"No matter what you do, we will never give up," the Major warned. "We will reverse this ridiculous situation as many times as we have to."

Maria stared at the screen, trying to understand what he meant by that, when Integra spoke.

"Alucard, Seras, kill him."

Before anyone could move, Alucard was at the end of the table, by Schrodinger's side. As the youth began to say something, Integra's servant jammed his silver pistol into the boy's mouth and pulled the trigger. Maria covered her eyes before she could see the result of Alucard's work.

"Fine, shoot the messenger, if this is what you've come to," she heard the Major say. " _Auf_ _Wiedersehen_ _, mein fraulein_. I look forward to meeting you across the battle field."

A second and third shot rang out, followed by the shattering of a million glass and metal pieces. Maria's heart almost leapt out of her chest, and she jumped back to avoid the bullets. She turned to see Seras pointing her gun where the Major's television used to be. But, to Maria's shock, there was no trace of Schrodinger's mutilated body anywhere. Not even a smear of blood stained the shiny marble floor.

"Alucard, Sir Hellsing."

The Queen's voice broke the stunned silence that had fallen over the meeting. Alucard and Integra turned to their monarch, quietly awaiting her orders. Maria glanced up at the platform to see the old woman was sitting straighter in her throne, her shoulders thrown back and her chin raised.

"Destroy them."

Not long after the Queen gave her orders, Maria found herself in the deserted corridor outside the meeting hall. Ahead of her, the delegates of the Round Table were making their way out of the building, chattering worriedly amongst themselves. Maxwell and Heinkel had left earlier without so much as a goodbye to Maria, but she did not care. She had much more to worry about than what people from her old life thought of her.

The Hellsing members were still in the meeting hall. Maria assumed they were talking with the Queen, but she desperately wished they would hurry up and join her outside. She could have stayed with them, but she did not want to be in the room where she had seen the Major. She had met the Devil that night, and she was frightened he was still hiding in the shadows somewhere.

Maria crossed the hall on wobbly knees and approached the window on the other side. She pressed her burning forehead to the cool glass and stared out into the night. London was alive with the twinkling of a million little lights, the pulse of a vibrant city. The Major's threats to the United Kingdom echoed in her mind without her willing it, and she shut her eyes as tears began to prick at them.

"Maria."

She started when she heard her name. Slowly, she turned around to see none other than Alucard standing across from her, his back to the conference room doors.

He did not approach her, and he did not say anything more. He merely stood there, hands at his sides, feet planted on the ground, waiting for her. Maria gazed into his face, a carefully composed mask of neutrality. His calmness unnerved her, and for a brief instant, she wanted to run away from him.

Maria balled her hands into fists, suffocating as the air grew heavy with tension. She was standing across from the man who had murdered an entire SWAT team in cold blood, who would do it again if given the order. Maria had not forgotten the way he boasted about his prowess to Integra, or the proud declaration that he was, indeed, every bit the monster Father Anderson warned her about.

And yet, Maria could not forget what she had read while he was away. She remembered his tough upbringing, the unstable kingdom over which he had ruled, and the way it had all come to a horrible end for him. Before long, her vision blurred, and she could no longer see Alucard. Only a sad young boy with torn clothes and a limp in his step remained.

Without a second thought, Maria dashed up to him and threw her arms around his neck. He caught her around the waist and pulled her close, hushing her gently as she began to sob.

" _Mi dispiace_ ," she whispered. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, staining the collar of his shirt with fresh tears.

Alucard did not say anything as she murmured apologies to him. His arm tightened around her, and his lips pressed to her pounding temple. Maria held onto him for her life, blinded, gasping for breath. She ran her fingers through his hair, trailed them down his neck. She pressed herself into him, let the sharp bone of his hip dig into hers, pushed her breasts against his chest. He was real, tangible, standing there with her. Even after all the trauma and heartache, he was with her. The fact that she had almost rejected him made her cry harder.

"Hush, dear," he whispered.

Maria shook her head, hardly hearing him as a new thought overtook her. "I will die..."

"No, you won't."

"I will..." She rested her chin on his shoulder, gripping fistfuls of his coat until her knuckles ached. "They- M-Millennium, they will come for me. You heard it, yes? They mean to harm me... And Hellsing, and Britain!"

"Maria," Alucard said as he drew away, "nothing is going to happen to you."

"But I hear him!" she cried. "The man- the Major- he will b-begin a war! I..." She trailed off, gazing helplessly into his face. "I am frightened, Alucard!"

He unwound his arms from her waist and leaned towards her. He caged her face between his hands, ensuring she would not turn away from him. Looking her in the eyes, he said, "I know. But, I'm not going to let you get hurt. I've destroyed Millennium before, and I can easily do it again."

He ran his thumb down her cheek, an attempt to soothe her. "You're going to have to trust me, now."

Trust him... For days, Maria wondered if she really capable of such a thing. Even in that moment, as she stood captive in his embrace, a doubtful little voice in her mind whispered its reservations to her.

But, she could barely hear it anymore. She knew why Alucard was who he was, and though she did not fully understand it yet, she knew that she could not turn from him now. Indeed, she would not, and this affirmation was enough to drown the last remaining shreds of apprehension.

With that thought, Maria drew in a shuddering breath and nodded, not trusting herself to speak without breaking down.

The ghost of a smile played over Alucard's mouth, though there was no amusement in his blood red eyes. Before she could think of anything else to say, he bowed his head and pressed his lips to hers.

There was nothing gentle or sensual about his kiss. It was rough, forceful, a staunch promise bruised onto the delicate skin on her mouth. Maria gripped the collar of his duster tightly, desperately, and tugged him towards her. He responded by crushing her against him, his arms constricting, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips.

When they parted, he loosened his grip only slightly. Maria looked up at him, swollen lips parted and tears rapidly drying. Without a word, she released his collar and fastened her arms around his waist. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, drawing in a deep, calming breath.

"Alucard?"

"Yes?"

"What will happen now?"

His hand left the small of her back and snaked its way under her chin. Maria let Alucard lift her head, and she smiled at his words, despite her dire situation.

"Now," he murmured, "I'm taking you home."

* * *

 **Translations (because I got lazy with them in previous chapters):**

 **Distratta = "distracted"**

 **Mi dispiace= "I'm sorry"**

 **Mind you, these translations were gleaned from Youtube tutorials and Google, so if they're wrong, I'm sorry! Anyway, as usual, thank you all so much for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing. Until next time!**


	16. A Moment of Truth

**Yikes... How long has it been? More than a month since I updated? Well, there are a few reasons for that: End of term is coming up, and that's been keeping me busy. However, I've also dragged my feet with this chapter because this was the hardest one I've had to write so far. I had a lot of trouble with it, but thanks to my beta reader and your encouraging reviews, I finally got it finished!**

 **That being said, I'm going to preface this chapter with a warning: This update contains some adult material. So, if any of you are uncomfortable reading that kind of stuff, there is nothing wrong with skipping it. Know you're limits; read within them!**

 **And, as always, thanks so much for the reviews, the favorites, and the follows! They never fail to make my day :)**

* * *

When Integra stepped out of the boardroom, Alucard, Maria, Seras, and Pip were nowhere in sight. After a cursory glance down the corridor, she concluded that they must have returned to the estate. Although she wanted to speak with her servants about what had happened during the meeting, she was also glad that she had been left alone.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" Walter asked as he followed her out of the room. The door shut behind him with a resonant bang.

Integra crossed her arms and approached the window opposite the boardroom. The sky was black now, and she could not find even a sliver of moon.

"Yes," she answered after a pause. "I'm simply wondering what we're going to do about Maria."

She turned and saw Walter's frown. "Well, she does present a bit of a problem. It would be helpful to know where she fits in all of this, at least."

Integra shook her head. "I don't believe it would matter if we knew. The fact is she's in danger. Her Majesty was very clear about keeping her safe as a civilian." She sighed and uncrossed her arms. "But there's the added confusion of her being privy to Hellsing's secrets..."

Walter ventured, "If I may, Sir Integra, suggest something?"

The heiress raised her chin, a gesture for him to go on.

"As you may know," he said, "when World War II began, there was a collective movement throughout England to relocate the women and children to safer areas. Naturally, at the time, I willingly stayed behind and served your father, but I do remember the technique working quite well. Many lives were spared."

"You're saying we should send Maria away? She knows too much to be turned loose into the world."

Walter folded his hands behind his back and gave her a knowing look. "Integra, the day you met her, she stuck a deal with you: As long as she got to see Alucard, she swore to keep silent. She got what she asked for, and more... Besides, I don't see any other options for her right now."

Integra fell silent as she contemplated her butler's words. Maria had, indeed, proven her loyalty to Hellsing, and the plan to hide her away was not a terrible idea. The trick was trying to conceal the girl from Millennium while they moved her.

Or rather, Integra thought, the tough part would be breaking the news to her. Integra had noticed how shaken Maria was after her encounter with the Major, but she doubted she would be thrilled about leaving Alucard. Would she even consent to go?

After a moment of silent contemplation, Integra decided that she would not have a choice. Although the young woman could be stubborn and irrational at times, Maria could not turn down the safety an evacuation would promise. Faced with either Millennium or a hiding place, Integra knew which she would choose.

"I'll talk to her when we get home," the heiress murmured. She thought for a moment before adding, "I only hope we can get her out of England before the Major makes his next move."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"It wasn't my intention for you to see that."

Maria was sitting on the sofa in the reading room, her head resting on Alucard's shoulder. Her body was rigid, her hands clutched into fists. She had just told him what she had seen on the news. She could not remember how they got on the topic, but somewhere in their conversation, the truth came out, and now he was reassuring her.

"I know," she said, quietly. "But I seen it. I was so frightened…"

Alucard sighed, a quiet and tired sound. "I don't understand what you would have had me do. They were under Millennium's control, Maria. They tried to kill us."

She could tell he was trying to be gentle, but the angry edge in his voice did not escape her notice. She drew in a calming breath and raised her head.

"Yes," she murmured, "I know this. Please, do not think that I say such things to anger you."

He uncurled her hand and brought it to his lips. "This is war," he murmured into her fingers. "None of us can afford to be cowards now. Hate me if you must, but I did what had to be done."

Maria nodded and kept silent as her thought rose and fell like ocean waves. In another time, she would have urged him to turn the other cheek. She would have encouraged him to pray for forgiveness- that is, if she had not already ran away in terror. But, she felt no such inclination as she sat there on the sofa with him. In fact, she did not feel an ounce of fear or revulsion towards him. Instead, she asked herself just how many times Alucard had had to kill to save himself. Was it any wonder he bristled at the very notion of someone making an earnest attempt on him or his loved ones? Maria used to maintain that, if she were faced with violence, she would submit herself to God, but now, she was not so sure...

After a moment, she freed her hand and slipped it into his own. She hesitated, biting her lip, before murmuring, "Do you recall, when I started to read Bram Stoker, and I tell you that I cannot hate you because of the book?"

Alucard gave her a quizzical look, waiting for her answer.

" _Bene_ , I cannot hate you for what occurred in Brazil either. You are right... It was a thing that had to be done."

Silence fell between them. Maria kept her hand in his, resolving not to break eye contact. He had asked her to trust him, and she was trying to show him that she did. She watched him gaze at her, when a flicker of some unnamed emotion flashed in his eyes, as if he had woken from a daze and recognized her for the first time since he came back from abroad.

"Maria…" he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent. He dropped her hand and reached to cup her cheek, his whole body leaning in towards her. Maria's hands went to his collar as she felt herself fall back, when a knock at the reading room door stopped her. Alucard froze and dropped his hand. To her immense disappointment, he withdrew and rose to his feet.

Maria followed him as the door clicked open. Integra stepped into the room, followed by Walter. Her face was taut, and she had the same expression Alucard had only moments ago, as if she just noticed they were there.

"Pardon the interruption," she murmured, her eyes finding her servant. "Alucard, I'd like a moment alone with Maria, if you'd please."

With a curt nod, the vampire strode past the two women and out the door. He did not give Maria even a fleeting glance before Walter shut the door behind him, sealing the men off from the women. Maria stared after Alucard, slightly hurt by his quick leave, when Integra spoke.

"Sit down, Maria," she said, as she settled into the armchair by the fireplace. "In light of what happened tonight, I've made some executive decisions in how to proceed."

"How do you mean?" Maria asked, eyeing her.

To this, Integra merely gestured to the love seat and said, "Sit, and I'll explain..."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

While Integra broke the news to Maria, Alucard retreated to his room in the basement with Walter. In the comforting darkness of the cellar, they discussed the night's events, marvelling at how the Nazis refused to give up. Eventually, the conversation turned to Seras, and Alucard explained his motivation for turning her into a vampire.

While he spoke, Alucard could hardly temper his excitement. As master and servant, he and Seras had encountered their stumbling blocks. However, he was now eager to see how she would perform in this fight. Alucard was not entirely sure how Millennium planned to attack Hellsing or England, but he could not shake the feeling that this was the moment where Seras would make him proud.

"So, now you're just waiting for her to drink blood," Walter said, once Alucard finished speaking. "Is that right?"

The vampire grinned. "All in good time. She'll drink... Eventually, she'll drink."

Walter nodded and folded his hands. Alucard watch the smile fade from his lips, sensing that the butler was about to tell him something less than pleasing. The vampire stood tall, feet firmly planted on the cold stone floor, and waited.

"Now, there's something else I've been meaning to talk to you about," Walter started, "per Sir Integra's orders... In fact, she's talking to Miss Sartori about the same thing right now..."

Alucard knew this was coming, but he refused to let the grin slip from his face. "Really?"

"It's about her safety."

Walter let his hands fall to his sides, and his brow pulled together in a concerned scowl. "Alucard, Integra has made the decision to send Maria away."

Somewhere at the back of the cell, a pipe was dripping. Alucard inclined his head slightly, but said nothing.

"No one knows what Millennium wants with her, but it's apparent that she isn't safe in London. The Nazis could attack at any time, and she runs too great a risk of being caught up in the milieu. She'd be safer back on campus in Rome."

Alucard remained silent, letting the weight of Walter's words sink in. He had a feeling this would be the verdict for Maria. He was not particularly inclined to disagree with the butler's words. Quite to the contrary, he would rather watch Maria leave than get mowed down in a rain of bullets.

But, try as he might, he could not fight the leaden sadness that seeped into his heart. He knew an evacuation was the right thing to do, but that fact did not make accepting the decision any easier. Although she would be safe, there was a very real possibility that once Maria walked out of the Hellsing manor, Alucard would never see her again. At this, he crossed his arms and tried to relax his face. Over the centuries, he had perfected his calm and collected expression, even when he was internally wracked with conflict.

"Look, I know this isn't ideal," Walter continued. "I see how she looks at you, and it won't be easy on her, either. But, we don't want her to end up…"

"Yes," Alucard cut him off. He gave a curt nod and adjusted his glasses. "I understand completely."

Walter offered him a tight smile. "Well… I'm glad you agree."

The two men stood rooted to the ground, pretending to smile at each other. The air grew thick with Walter's unfinished sentence, something Alucard was finding increasingly hard to ignore:

 _We don't want her to end up like Ilona._

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Maria stared at Integra, her mouth fallen open in a round O. The heiress looked away from Maria and tapped her cigar into the waiting ashtray on the coffee table. Maria watched the ashes fall, curling in the glass dish, as she struggled to find her words.

"I am to leave?" she stammered. "You will make me go away, Integra?"

The blonde shook her head and caught the cigar between her lips again. "No, Maria, we're going to hide you. We don't intend on expelling you from the manor like a vagabond; you'll be escorted to Heathrow and quietly flown back to Rome. It's safer there."

Maira looked down at her lap. She could not argue with Integra's reasoning. Still, it did not ease the sickness in her stomach.

"When do I go?"

"I've already called and booked you a ticket for tomorrow afternoon."

Maria's head snapped up. "Tomorrow? Integra, that is soon…"

"I know, but I don't want to take chances," she explained.

Every word that fell from Integra's mouth made sense, but Maria could barely understand her anymore. Her hearing was fuzzy, and her thoughts were racing. She would have to face everyone at home again, seclude herself in her old dorm room, avoid going out alone… But, Maria thought, before any of that could happen, she had to say goodbye. Alucard's face floated to the surface of her mind, and her vision blurred.

A hand fell on Maria's knee. She lifted her head to see Integra leaning over in her chair, her eyebrows pinched together and her gaze soft. "I'm sorry. I knew this was going to be hard on you, but we don't have much of a choice."

Maria swallowed over the painful lump in her throat and nodded.

"This is for the best." Integra hesitated, only for a moment, before pulling away and adding, "Alucard knows this too. He wouldn't want you in danger."

Maria shook her head, shaking two tears loose, one from each eye. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a little voice chastised her. She had been given a chance to escape, and she was crying over it instead of feeling grateful. But, as she tried to find the gratitude she knew she had in her, all she could register was that she had to part with Alucard again. Only, this time, it might be forever.

A soft, white thing fluttered before Maria's face. She took the tissue from Integra and dabbed her eyes.

"There's still time to say goodbye," the heiress offered. "You have the whole night."

One night. Eight hours. It would slip through their fingers like sand, but Maria did not want to think about it now. All she managed to say in response was a hoarse " _Si_."

Without much more ceremony, Integra rose and headed towards the door. It clicked open, but before she stepped through, she called Maria's name.

The tearful girl looked up and saw Integra glance at her over her shoulder, her gloved hand resting on the door handle. She offered Maria a small smile, though a hint of sadness glimmered in her azure eyes.

"We enjoyed your company, Maria," she said finally. "All of us."

Maria gave her a watery smile and wiped at her cheek. "I thank you, Integra."

With that, Integra turned and shut the door.

Maria sat rigid on the couch in semi-darkness, her chin resting on her chest. She grabbed fistfuls of her skirt and screwed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth as she fought to tamp down a mournful sob. Memories ran through her mind: Alucard's sudden appearance on the bike path, his devilish smile as she asked him his name, their walk through the graveyard, their first night in bed together... She raised her head and drew in a shaking breath. She opened her eyes and stared into the abyss of the empty fireplace. How could it be fair, she wondered, that the moment she decided she wanted Alucard, she was going to be taken away from him?

Maria rose on wobbly knees. She rubbed her eyes and turned to the door, fumbling to find the handle. Once she was out of the reading room, she meandered down the hallway, fighting to keep a hold on her self-control. The fragments of memories- a smile here, a kiss there, a touch when no one was looking- continued to plague her as she wandered.

She hurried past the portrait of Abraham van Helsing and rounded the corner, only to collide into another body. Startled, Maria raised her head to see Alucard's imposing figure towering over her, hatless and without his glasses. She gave a wordless little cry and fasted her arms around him, burying her face into his coat as she began to weep in earnest.

"So, you've heard," Alucard murmured. His hand found its way to the back of her head, a touch so comforting it made Maria cry harder.

"Do not let me go," she sobbed. " _Per favore_ , let me stay..."

"You know that isn't possible, my dear."

" _Non me ne importa niente!_ " she swore, though, deep down, she knew he was right. "I cannot go... I cannot leave you..."

Without a word, Alucard wrapped his arms around her. Silence filled the dark hallway. Maria could almost hear the seconds tick by from some giant, unseen clock. She tightened her grip on Alucard and looked up at him, trying to think of something to say. A frown tugged at the corners of his full mouth as he caressed her cheek, the silk of his glove drawing goosebumps out onto her arms.

"You're in the middle of a battlefield, Maria," he murmured. "It's no place for a girl like you."

Maria shook her head. "I know this," she said. "But what of you? I-I will never see you!"

She stopped her sentence short as a fresh wave of sorrow broke over her. She bowed her head and choked on her sobs.

"It's not worth risking your life over," he told her. When that did not placate her, he added softly, "Stop crying."

The subtle, pleading note in his voice tempered Maria's hysterics. She scrunched up her face and forced the sobs back down her throat. When she felt calm enough, she raised her head up from his chest and drew back.

Alucard was nowhere near as emotional as she was, but she could tell that he was not happy. Though his cheeks were untouched by the flush of sadness or the stains of tears, his eyes were dull and unalive. Seeing him in such a state made Maria's heart ache.

"I… I leave for Rome tomorrow."

"I know."

She searched his face, though she did not know what she was looking for. They had one more night together. One last chance…

A thought arose in her distraught mind. It was audacious, risky, something she had been pushing away for quite some time, but she dared not ignore it now.

"Alucard…" she murmured.

"Yes?"

"Will you…" She hesitated for a moment as her courage threatened to leave her. A thin haze of doubt appeared to shroud her, but she shook it off quickly. Before she could change her mind, she quickly asked, "Will you come to bed with me?"

The question hung over them, going unanswered, wasting precious seconds away. Maria watched Alucard's eyebrows rise, her heart pounding. His lips parted, but no words spilled forth. For a terrible moment, Maria thought she had made a mistake. She was about to disengage herself from his arms, but the moment she moved, she found herself forcefully pulled back. His chin came down to rest on the top of her head, and his arms crossed over the small of her back.

"Yes. I will," he told her, his voice low and earnest.

She felt him bow his head, his chin sliding off her crown, until his lips were against her ear.

"Go back to your room," he said. "Wait for me there. I won't be long."

Maria's heart almost stuttered to a halt. Unable to remember her English, she merely nodded. He gave her a toothy smile- the first one she had seen all day- and released her. The young woman stood still for a moment, her mind drawing blank after blank, when Alucard waved her in the direction of her room. With another nod, Maria stepped away and hurried down the corridor, not daring to glance back at him as she went.

When she reached her room, Maria shut the door and leaned all of her weight against it. The tears were gone, her sadness was forgotten, and all that weighed on her mind was what she had just consented to.

She paced the room, fussing over the buttons on her cardigan. Almost instinctively, she began to wonder whether this was going to damn her to hell. Although she knew the Bible would say yes, the more she thought about it, the less she realized she cared. There was only one thing she deigned to remember from her days at St. Ferdinand's, something one of the nuns had taught her when she was an impressionable and obedient girl.

 _"_ _You have to save the moment for someone special."_

Every girl in that classroom, including Maria, knew the sister was talking about their future husbands. Maria was not married. She was not even engaged. But, in all of her twenty-four years, she had never met anyone else who had made her feel this way. And, after this, Maria doubted she ever would feel it again.

With that thought, she marched to the bathroom and shut the door. She stripped off her clothes and gazed at her half-clothed form in the mirror.

She did not meet her reflection's gaze. Instead, she looked down at her breasts, cupped in a plain white bra. Her soft, round stomach protruded slightly over the waistband of her underwear. She crossed her arms over her middle, tasting the bitterness of shame on her tongue. No one had ever seen her like this before. What if Alucard was disappointed with what she hid under her clothes?

A sigh escaped her lips as she turned away from the mirror. Her nightgown was hanging on the door behind her. With a shrug, she kicked her clothes into the corner and grabbed the chemise from the hook on the door.

Maria slipped the dress over her head and turned back to the mirror. As she tied the ribbon at her neck, she tried to ignore the incessant fluttering of nerves in her stomach. Her mind was screaming, filled to the brim with questions and fears. The longer she stayed in the bathroom, retying her bow, the louder those anxieties grew. Fearing she was about to go mad, Maria gave the ribbon a final tug and opened the door.

The darkness in her room was different. As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, she could tell he was there. She hesitated, her back to the well-lit bathroom, as she searched for him in the abyss.

Before long, Alucard emerged from the shadows. His duster, vest, and cravat were gone, and his boots had already been placed neatly by the door. His eyes were locked on her with a sort of intensity that Maria had never seen in him before. It thrilled her, tantalized her, silenced all of her worries. All she could pay attention to now was him.

Maria felt her feet carrying her towards Alucard, her toes sinking into the plush carpet with each step. As she drew nearer, she noticed that he was smiling, though not a single word escaped his lips.

He reached for her. Maria slipped her hand into his and let him pull her towards him. Before she realized what was happening, her cheek was pressed into the soft cotton of his shirt, and his arms were around her.

When she looked up, his lips met hers without delay. Maria's eyes closed as she felt the last of her worries melt away. He kissed her slowly, teasingly, as if he was being careful not to frighten her away. Maria responded in kind, letting her hands travel up his chest and rest at his collar. They stayed there until a pair of guiding hands grasped hers and lowered them down to his buttons. Maria opened them with quivering fingers, one at a time. When the last button had been unfastened, she let her hands push the shirt aside, her palms gliding over his cool, pale skin, following the curve of his ribcage.

She heard Alucard groan, but did not look up to see his reaction. Instead, she was fixed on his chest, where a jagged scar ran diagonally from his pectoral down to his sternum. Maria hadn't the slightest idea where he got that scar, and she did not want to ask him now. She pressed her lips to the old injury, closing her eyes as he made a quiet sound of satisfaction. His flesh was smooth against her mouth, the slightly raised scar the only thing to mar the plane of his chest.

As she kissed her way up to his neck, she felt his hands slide down her back and past her hips. He grabbed her and pulled her to him, his thumbs pressing into her skin. Maria almost gasped when she felt a telling hardness press into her thigh, but she did not pull away. Instead, she gripped him tightly and found her way to his lips again.

As he deepened the kiss, Alucard bent his legs and slid his hands down the backs of Maria's thighs. Before she could ask what he was doing, he bent her knees and lifted her off the ground. A strangled exclamation escaped Maria's throat, and she hung onto him for dear life. In an instant, she was on the bed, head against the pillow, and Alucard was over her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his hands on either side of her shoulders. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Yes…" Maria managed, her eyes locked on his.

He shifted his weight slightly so that he was kneeling over her. "Do you want to stop?"

Maria shook her head. "No, no, please…"

She shimmied her way up so that she was sitting, pushing him back slightly. "I want this… I want you."

That familiar smirk returned to Alucard's face as he chuckled at her words. He reached for her and caught her around the waist. With a little tug, Maria slid up onto his hips, crossing her ankles behind his back.

Alucard held her close and dipped his head, kissing her collarbone, where the neck of her nightgown had fallen open. His lips sent bolts of lightning coursing through her.

"I'm glad," he murmured into her skin.

Something was tugging at her bodice, and through the haze of desire, Maria vaguely understood that he was undoing her bow. "Alucard…"

The ribbon pooled into her lap, and her nightgown fell off her shoulders. Alucard's lips found their way up her neck, dangerous and teasing. Maria closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his head. He trailed his hand down and cupped her breast. When she felt him kneading it, Maria's body stiffened.

"Relax, dear."

His hand left her chest and toyed with the hem of her nightgown. Maria could feel the skirt slide up her thigh, past her hip, grazing her ribs. A delightful shiver ran down her spine, though the cool night air did nothing to lessen the burning of her cheeks. Willing herself to keep balanced, Maria raised her arms. The night gown slid over her head and found its way to the ground in an instant.

As soon as the garment was off, Maria felt Alucard's legs pull out from beneath her. She fell back onto the bed, Alucard following her down without delay. She could feel his hip bones dig into hers, the swell between his legs press against the most intimate part of her. She looked up at him with hooded eyes, her gaze clashing with his.

"Now," he murmured huskily. "You are mine."

With that declaration, his mouth crashed against hers in a deep, impassioned kiss. Maria's hips bucked as she relished the heat coursing through her veins. She felt her hands roaming over him, grasping at his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders.

Alucard pulled away and knelt between her legs to shrug the garment off. From her place beneath him, Maria watched with burning anticipation, mesmerized by his taut, lean body. Before long, his shirt joined her nightgown, but curiously, his gloves did not.

"Wait," Maria said. She held up an arresting finger and nodded to his hands. "Alucard, will you not take them off?"

Alucard, who was poised over the girl, hesitated momentarily. His lustful enthusiasm fled, only to be replaced by a troubling reluctance. Maria laid on her back and watched him, wondering. After a moment, he straightened and, without looking at her, tugged the gloves off his hands. When they were both off, Maria could not suppress the horrified gasp that left her lips.

"What happened?" she demanded, raising herself up on her elbows.

On the back of each hand, a mass of angry, red lacerations marred his skin. The injuries appeared to form a pentagram encircled by some unreadable symbols. Maria stared, realizing after a moment that the mutilations matched the designs on his gloves.

Alucard muttered quickly, "It's nothing."

Maria sat up and reached for his hand, careful not to brush the tender-looking skin. "Alucard, I fear you will bleed."

He snatched his hand away and planted both firmly on either side of her. He leaned towards her, their noses almost touching, as he answered, "I won't. I've had these for a very long time."

Maria frowned. "What is it?"

He shook his head, offering her a mirthless little smile. "Souvenirs," he answered, "from my first master."

Maria blinked. Abraham van Helsing did this to him? Questions flooded her mind, but she dared not ask them now. Instead, she scooted closer to Alucard and planted a soft kiss on his mouth.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

Alucard eyed her, his expression guarded but gentle. She watched his blood red gaze trail down the length of her body, and to her relief, the lustful glimmer in his eyes returned. Without waiting for him, she slid down onto her back and reach out.

Alucard did not need any prompting. When he saw her yield to him, he was on her in an instant, his lips on her mouth, her jaw, her neck. She parted her knees for him, moaning as he pushed against her. He slipped his hands under her back, and even though he was working blind, Alucard succeeded in undoing the clasp of her bra. Maria felt him slip the straps from her shoulders. In a sudden moment of panic, the doubt she had earlier resurfaced, and she nearly told him not to take it off. However, Alucard was a step ahead of her, and before she could even open her mouth, he tore the article away and let her breasts spill from their cups.

Maria felt herself blush again as he stared down at her, drinking her in. When he glanced back up at her, his desire was more apparent than ever. With a devilish little smile, Alucard tossed her bra aside and continued his appraisal down her neck, over her collar bone, and to the swell of her breast.

Maria gripped the sheets, wondering what exactly he was going to do. She tried to speak, but her tongue refused to move. It was only when Alucard's mouth closed over one sensitive nipple that she could make any sound, and it was hardly a way of saying no.

As he latched onto one, he palmed the other in his hand, squeezing roughly. Maria heard herself making noise and dimly wondered if she should quiet down. What if someone heard her?

All worries fled her mind when Alucard's hand left her breasts and found its way between her legs. She gasped as his fingers slipped into her knickers and trailed over her hot, wet core. Maria almost cried out in frustration as he teased her. She feared if he kept at it, the pangs of desire that wracked her body would consume her.

" _Per fa_ …" She trailed off as her words morphed into a strangled mewl- He had lightly brushed past the most sensitive part of her. "Please, Alucard…"

"What is it?" he asked playfully, his eyes practically glowing as he looked up at her.

Maria struggled to answer him. He ran his thumb over her again, sending shockwaves through her body. She arched her back and gasped, trying to remember her words. How was she supposed to ask for something she had no vocabulary for?

Another stroke. She bit down on her lip and suppressed a moan. She was not going to be able handle this much longer.

"I…"

Alucard straightened up and knelt between her legs, tugging her underwear down her knees with his free hand. "Yes?"

She would have yelled at him if he wasn't making her feel so good. She fought to think of an answer, but distracted by her knickers sliding down her legs. She was completely naked in front of a man, and she could hardly dwell on it while Alucard's strokes grew faster, harder. Something terribly wonderful was building up inside her, and it was taking Maria all she had to answer him.

"I-"

Without warning, his hand immediately left her. Breathless, Maria looked up to see him gazing down at her through tousled bangs. He gave her a little smile and reached out with his scarred hand.

"Come here, Maria."

Shivering, she sat up and crawled towards him on shaky knees. He gathered her up in his arms and kissed her forehead. He trailed his fingers down her arms and grabbed her hands, guiding them to the waistband of his pants. Maria drew back and glanced up at him, uncertain and nervous once again. With that reassuring smile ever present, Alucard pressed her fingers to the top button.

She closed her eyes, letting her hand roam further down. A low moan escaped Alucard's throat as she touched him. Maria smiled to herself and did not waste much time undoing the button. The anticipation was as much a burden to her as it was to him.

Without thinking too much about what she was doing, Maria hooked her thumbs over the top and pulled his trousers down his hips with one determined tug.

Maria felt her cheeks flare up again as she looked down at Alucard. She had never seen a naked man before, let alone touch one. She saw him grinning at her, his eyes dancing. Reassured, Maria touched him gently, running her hand down his length, fingertips dancing over the tip. Before long, Alucard decided it was enough when he gripped her waist and pinned her back down on the bed. Maria fell back without complaint, letting out only a little "oof!" as she hit the mattress

After they settled, Alucard brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and murmured, "Are you ready?"

Maria's stomach did a few somersaults. She inclined her head, about to nod, when a last-minute thought entered her mind. She glanced down at their hips, where their bodies were dangerously close to being joined.

"W-Wait," she stammered. "What of… Do we not need… Ah, should we not… c-cover…? For not to…"

Alucard furrowed his brow as she stumbled over her words. Maria felt herself blush again, but this time, it was out of embarrassment. Although she had learned to save herself for 'someone special' at St. Ferdinand's, the nuns never once mentioned anything about contraception. Maria was at a loss.

Eventually, Alucard somehow deciphered what she was trying to say, and the smile quickly returned to his face. "Don't fret, Maria. You seem to forget, I'm not human. Vampires can't sire children or pass on diseases."

At these words, a surreal calm settled over her. Although she was still nervous with anticipation, she returned his smile and murmured, "Yes. I understand."

"Good."

He shifted his weight onto his elbows and nudged her knees apart. When he settled between her again, he caged her face between his hands and made her look him in the eye. "This might hurt you at first, but it won't last," he warned, his voice soft.

Not trusting herself to speak, Maria nodded and tightened her arms around him. Come what may. She was ready.

With that, Alucard slipped an arm under her body and pulled her against him. He reached down and guided himself towards her. With a sudden and unrelenting push, he entered her.

A sharp cry left Maria's throat, though she was more surprised than pained. She squeezed her arms around him, letting him gather her up in his arms as he slid into her. Maria screwed her eyes shut, overcome by a terrible longing, a pressuring ache in body that cried out to be relieved. She slipped her arms from his neck and wound them around his waist, urging him on.

Alucard was quick to oblige her. The bed creaked beneath them, and the blankets bunched up under their bodies. Maria let her head fall back on the pillow, watching him look down at her, his eyes glazed over and his eyebrows knitted. She heard her short, shallow breaths mingle with his, and another wave of desire rippled through her. She barely even noticed that the initial pain she felt was gone.

It wasn't long before Alucard picked up his pace. Maria held onto him tightly, trying to meet him with every thrust, but he was going too fast. Instead, she raised her knees and wrapped her legs around him, her heels kicking his back gently. A muted growl churned Alucard's throat, and he drove harder into her. Maria bit down on her lip, taken aback by the sudden force of his movements, but whatever pain she felt soon gave way to the kind of aching pleasure he had drummed up in her earlier.

The world seemed to spin, the ground appeared to shake, but Maria kept her gaze on Alucard. His blood red eye burned into her, the intensity of gaze matched only by the unrelenting thrusts of his hips. She heard herself moaning his name, feverishly, desperately. With each drive into her, Maria felt herself nearing her end, and as she watched Alucard lose his self-control, she knew it would not be long.

"I c-can't…Please…" she stammered, losing one thought after another.

His eyes flashed at the sound of her voice, though it appeared that he almost could not hear her. He swept her up in his arms, pinning her to the bed with the weight of his body. Refusing to let up, he muttered one, breathy word in a strained voice.

"Maria…"

His hips bucked violently, slamming himself into her, as a primal shout left his throat. Maria tightened her legs around him, holding on tightly as he lost himself in her. She was not far behind him when a heady rush clouded her mind and an explosion of pleasure blossomed through her. She cried out his name and arched her back as she thrashed beneath him, joining him in his ecstasy.

Before long, the frantic need, now finally met, subsided. She laid immobile on her back, arms and legs wrapped around Alucard, heavy breaths filling the room. Slowly, she unwound herself from him and let her legs fall to the side.

Alucard raised his head and gazed down at her, his eyes somewhat vacant, and his mouth parted slightly as he panted. Maria returned the look silently, marvelling at how handsome he was. A smile began to creep onto her flushed face when something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned her head to see a deep, crescent-shaped gash on Alucard's forearm, glinting red with fresh blood.

Maria struggled to sit up, trying in vain to disengage him. "A-Alucard, you are hurt," she stammered, her voice hoarse.

A heavy hand fell onto her shoulder and pushed her back down. "Pay it no mind," he told her. "It was either you or me."

She stared up at him, confusion pulling her brows together. He gave her a humourless little smile and slipped out of her. As he drew back he glanced at the injury on his forearm, willing the blood to retreat back into the tear. Maria watched in amazement as he healed himself.

"I wasn't about to do that to you," he said, his eyes fixed on his arm. "A bite from a vampire is said to be one of the most sensual things a person can experience. The cost is not worth your life, but passion can make all of us do foolish things…"

The bite sealed itself in a matter of seconds. Maria laid prone on the bed, wondering why she did not feel more frightened by Alucard's admission. He could have killed her or turned her into a ghoul with a careless bite. Instead of going for her neck, though, he had turned his bloodlust on himself. It had been a close call, but Maria was still as human as she ever was. Lifting her heavy head, she sat up and touched his arm. The skin was smooth and unblemished once again, and she planted a little kiss on the newly healed spot. He smiled, his fangs glinting in the dim light, and he bent to claim her lips once again…

The dim moonlight streamed in from the window and alighted on the tussled bed sheets. Maria lay next to Alucard, her head against his chest, cradled in his arms. She was exhausted, yet more alert than ever. Her body ached, but she was comfortable. She felt the same, but deep within her, something had changed, and she was not unhappy about it.

She draped her arms around him and snuggled closer, heaving a sigh of satisfaction. Her troubles seemed far away now, and all she could think of was the feeling of her body pressed to Alucard's. She buried her face into his scarred chest, smiling against his skin. She could not remember the last time she felt this happy.

The vampire's head rested on the pillow opposite hers. He regarded her with a hazily, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Maria was struck by how calm he looked. Normally, his eyes gave him away, whether he was feeling angry, irritated, or worried. But now, Maria realized that she was seeing him truly happy for the first time since she met him.

"Alucard..."

He was heartbreaking to look at. Perfect and scarred, happy and sad, a warrior and a lover... Her Alucard was a mess of contradictions, and in a strange way, it made him all the more human.

The smile slipped from Maria's face as she cupped his cheek. Slowly, the reality of her situation came back to her: The hours had dwindled away, and she only had a half night more with her dear, sad prince before she walked out of his life for good.

Alucard noticed the tears materializing in her eyes before she did. Before she could start crying, he rolled her over onto her back and embraced her. Maria clung to him, willing herself to memorize the feeling of his body over hers as best as she could. This was her last chance to hold him, feel him, let him know much he truly meant to her...

"I love you."

The words tumbled from her lips on their own volition. She did not stop herself. She did not even try. She had been taught to tell the truth, and so she would. She loved him. She, Maria Sartori, was in love with the vampire Alucard. After all the deliberation, the truth had finally been wrested from the confines of her mind and thrown into the open. It was liberating and terrifying at the same time.

The words hung over them, saturating the air they breathed. Maria ran her fingers through Alucard's hair, wondering how he would respond to her admission. After a moment of stillness, he pulled away from her and touched his lips to hers. He gave her a slow, burning kiss, but otherwise, he remained silent.

Maria kissed him back, smiling against his mouth. He was not going to say anything to her, but she decided that she did not care. She did not say those words to illicit a similar response. She was merely being honest. No matter how he responded, Maria refused to leave without telling him how she felt. She loved him, and for at least another little while, he was hers as much as she was his.

* * *

 **And there you have it: She finally said it! Now, I know some of you were hoping that Maria and Alucard wouldn't make love so soon, but there is a reason why I decided now was the time. It will all make sense in later chapters, so just hang tight!**

 **Also, about Alucard's scars... That's headcanon, more than anything. I just wondered why, in both the manga and TV shows, we never see Alucard's hands. We know the pentagrams on his gloves act as seals, so I imagined that those seals would also be burned/carved into his hands (in case he ever took the gloves off). As for the scar on his chest, that's a reference to a scene in Bram Stoker's _Dracula._ I figured if he got that scar before being endowed with other powers, it would not disappear. **

**Oh, and one more thing: According to Google, "Non me ne importa niente" is a way of saying "I don't care" or "I don't give a damn." Just in case anyone was wondering :P**

 **Anyway, that's all for now... Thank you guys so much for sticking with me! I can't say exactly when the next chapter will come, but it will come... After all, things are going to be moving quite quickly now...**


	17. A Family Secret

**Hello, dear readers! Well, it's been a while since my last update, but I know you'll forgive me, won't you? My exam period just ended, and now I'm (relatively) free! Anyway, before we begin, a big thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favourited since my last update. When the going gets tough, I just look back on all the support I've received from you guys, and that's all the motivation I need!**

 **Now, without further ado, enjoy this next installment of _Thirty Pieces of Silver._..**

* * *

When Alucard opened his eyes, the bedroom was bathed in the soft light of morning. He blinked a few times, trying to rid his mind of the haze of a bad sleep. Vampires were not supposed to be awake during the day, but his exertions from last night had tired him. He had dozed quietly by Maria's side soon after she had fallen asleep.

He propped himself up on his elbow and reached to pull the curtain closed. He was careful not to disturb the sleeping girl next to him. Maria's dark tresses spilled over the pillow, and her steady breathing was the only sound in the room. Her arms were thrown back over her head, the blankets kicked backed to reveal her ample bust and the deep curve of her waist. Smiling to himself, Alucard slid back down under the covers and wrapped his arms around her. She did not stir.

The clock on the wall stared at the couple, its face boasting the time: Nine twenty in the morning. Maria's plane was at one. Alucard sighed and brushed a few stray locks from her ear.

"Maria..."

Her left foot twitched, but otherwise, she did not respond.

Alucard sat up and laid a hand- his pale, scarred hand- on her bare shoulder. Gently, he shook her.

"Wake up, Maria."

The young woman's whole body jerked, and her eyes flew open. She blinked a few times and looked up at him with a bleary gaze, her eyebrows knitted. A second passed, and her eyes wandered past him, resting on the curtains by the bed. The day broke through the drapes and shone a bar of yellow light on her chin.

"Ah... It is morning..." she murmured.

Alucard nodded and touched her cheek. The disappointment in her voice affected him more than he would have liked to admit, but he hastily pushed that feeling away.

"It's almost half past nine," he muttered. "We should get up."

Maria's glassy green eyes darted about the room, and she nodded absentmindedly. She pulled away from his stroking fingers and sat on the edge of the mattress. Alucard watched her retrieve her nightgown from the floor and slip it over her head. Without a word, she rose to her feet and made her way into the bathroom. He leaned over and saw her fussing over her hair in the mirror, her little fingers clawing at the mess. Still, she did not speak.

Alucard frowned and got out of bed. He approached the bathroom and leaned on the doorframe, waiting for her to talk to him. She kept her head down, but he could see her eyes filling with tears in the mirror's reflection. He stepped over the threshold and touched her arm.

Finally, her aloof front tumbled down. With a wordless exclamation, she turned and threw her arms around him. She squeezed tightly, though her body started to shake. Alucard felt her wet tears on his skin before he heard them. He pulled her close, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. He did not say anything as she began to sob; the horrible sinking feeling in his chest had put him out of the mood to talk.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Two hours later, Alucard found himself wading through the crowds at Heathrow airport. Dressed in his unassuming grey suit, he wove in and out of the waiting travellers, keeping an eye on the three people ahead of him: Integra and Walter led the way, and Maria trailed after them. Behind Alucard, Pip talked with Hugh and Etienne, the two men chosen to escort Maria to Rome. Somewhere by his side, Alucard could sense Seras eyeing him, though she kept silent.

After two elevator trips and one wrong turn, the convoy eventually made their way to the security gates. Lines of people zig-zagged their way to x-ray machines, and the low hum of chatter filled the air. The sound grated on Alucard's ears.

When Integra, Walter, and Maria slowed to a halt by the end of the line, a familiar numbness began to settle in the vampire's limbs. His eyes immediately found Maria, only to see that she was glancing warily at the people around her and chewing on her bottom lip. Alucard could tell she was desperately trying not to cry, but her eyes still glistened in the light. Her bravery was endearing, and he wanted nothing more than to take her home and kiss her tears away. Instead, he folded his arms and waited.

"Well, here we are," Integra said, her expression rather sombre. She glanced at the Wild Geese and motioned to Etienne and Hugh. The two men, dressed in plainclothes, hurried past Alucard and Seras and stood at attention. As the heiress gave them instructions, Maria's eyes fell on Alucard, her gaze practically shouting at him. He kept his composure, but he allowed a subtle frown to break the surface of his face. He hoped Maria could read that much from him.

After she finished talking to the mercenaries, Integra turned to Maria and offered her a small smile. She laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder and said, "Goodbye, Maria. Stay safe, and remember that if you're ever in trouble, Hellsing is always there for you."

Walter stepped forward and gave the girl a little bow before adding, "It was lovely having you, Miss Sartori. Do take care of yourself."

Maria's throat constricted as she swallowed down her emotion. She nodded and managed a small "thank you" before being approached by Pip. As soon as she turned to him, he grasped her hand and gave it a little shake.

"It was nice meeting you, _mademoiselle_ ," he said. "And don't you worry- We'll get those Nazi bastards before they can lay a finger on you."

A glimmer of fear flash in Maria's eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. She forced herself to smile and gave Pip a grateful nod. "I thank you, Captain. And, I wish you good luck."

Maria stepped away from Pip, only to be stopped short as Seras approached her.

"Goodbye, Maria," she said softly.

"Seras," Maria started, her voice cracking. "I am sorry that I did not spend more time to talk with you while I was here..."

"Please, it's all right," Seras assured her, holding up her hand. Offering the tearful girl a gentle smile, she added, "Everything's going to be fine, Maria. You'll be safe."

A moment of silence passed before Maria shifted her purse to the other shoulder. She caught Seras around the waist in a one-arm hug, and Alucard's servant returned the gesture with a quick squeeze. When they separated, Seras jerked her head and let slip an awkward giggle. Maria imitated her, but as she lowered her eyes, a single tear escaped and dropped onto the linoleum floor.

Finally, Maria found her way to Alucard. As she went to him, Integra, Seras, and Walter turned away, opting to follow Etienne and Hugh up to the security queue. When Alucard looked back down at Maria, he knew immediately that she was on the verge of refusing to leave. She was still drawn up, biting down hard on her lip, her fists shaking.

"You're much prettier when you smile, you know," he told her in a low voice.

Maria made a strange noise, something that sounded half way between a sob and a laugh. She wiped away the tears on her cheek and drew in a quivering breath.

"A-Alucard… I cannot tell you how... _Bene,_ how thankful I am... th-that I met you..."

He nodded silently. Words of a similar nature were stuck in his throat, and the creeping numbness had firmly settled into his heart. His teeth caught the inside of his cheek, and he faintly tasted metal on his tongue. Just say it, he told himself. Say it, or you will feel worse later.

But, the words stayed lodge in his throat. Defeated, he caught her hand and brought it to his lips, breathing a delicate kiss on the smooth skin. The contact produced a slight burning sensation on his mouth, as if the moment was being seared into lips.

"Alucard."

The sudden strength in her voice took him aback. Still holding her hand, Alucard looked up to see her eyeing him intensely, her sadness and self-pity momentarily wiped from her face.

"There is a war that will happen- the M-Major promises it," she murmured. "I know you are a good soldier. But, please, be careful. I will not be here, but I will think of you... Promise me that you will live?"

Although quiet, her words seemed to echo through the airport, silencing even the chatter that Alucard so desperately wished to escape. He glanced over at the queue. Integra, Walter, Seras, and Pip were still talking with Etienne and Hugh, unaware of what was going on behind them. As quick as he dared, Alucard dropped Maria's hand and planted a little kiss on the top of her head. Her final mandate to him felt oddly familiar. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture himself in a large entrance hall, his back to an open door, where the sounds of horses and clattering weaponry beckoned him…

Before he could stop himself, he dipped his head and whispered something hurriedly in Maria's ear. He barely heard himself, hardly noticed what he was doing before he pulled away and saw the young woman's confused face. That was when he realized he had spoken in his native language to her. For a moment, he forgot the numbness in his body, his heart. He was still, letting a wave of lucidity crash over him as he tried to understand his own actions. As he struggled in silence, Pip's voice cut through the foyer.

"Maria, come! You'll be late for the flight."

She glanced over her shoulder and back at Alucard. Her expression begged him for one more kiss, one more touch, but they both knew their time was up. He gave up trying to understand himself and tried to give Maria a smile.

"Goodbye, my dear."

That was all he could manage. Knowing this was the end, Maria gave him a shaky grin (it was more of a grimace), turned on her heel, and hurried towards Hugh and Etienne. Alucard saw her duck her head, and her hands went to her face. He suddenly felt as if he had done something wrong, but it was too late to do anything about it now.

Alucard stayed where he was, watching her shuffle through the line, rubbing at her eyes and looking up at the ceiling to keep her tears at bay. He barely noticed Integra and the others approaching him as Maria and the mercenaries waited for the next free security booth. Alucard never took his eyes off her as she rushed to take off her shoes and walk through the metal detector.

"Master?"

Seras' hesitant voice floated into his ears, but he did not acknowledge her. Not yet. Because as soon as Maria was through the gate, she threw one last glance over her shoulder at Alucard. When their gazes clash, he felt as if someone had forced the blunt end of a knife through him, threatening to shatter the protective numbness that had resettled over him. Maria Sartori, the first woman in five centuries to tell him that she loved him, was almost beyond his sight.

And, only a moment later, she was escorted around the corner by Etienne and Hugh. Gone.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

 _The sky was lavender, the first stars of twilight winking down at the barren cemetery. Maria hurried past the headstones, glancing warily over her shoulder. She was running from something, but she did not know what. She had to go, but she did not know where_

 _Maria was in a dress, a ruffled monstrosity from a time gone by. The train caught on twigs and branches as she ran under a familiar sycamore. Her sides strained against the tight bodice as her ragged breaths heaved in and out of her lungs. When she stepped onto the narrow gravel path, she thought her torment would never end._

 _And, that was when she saw him._

 _Standing by the wrought iron gate, clad in a black cloak, was a man. He stood with his back to her, his long dark hair dancing in the wind. Maria did not need to see his face to know who he was._

 _Grabbing handfuls of her skirts, she flew up the path to him. Her eyes burned with tears, and her lips parted to draw in the breath that would call his name. He was so close now that she could almost reach out and-_

 _"MARIA!"_

 _Seemingly out of nowhere, two figures appeared in front of her, blocking her way. Maria cried out in frustration. She was prepared to throw them out of her path, when the shock of recognition dispersed her desperation. Maria skidded to a halt and gaped._

 _"Irene? Katie?"_

 _The two girls stood there, feet planted and arms crossed. Irene was in the same pyjamas she had died in, and Katie's hair was loose, falling over her shoulder in soft waves._

 _"Surprised to see us?" Irene asked dryly, though a grin was threatening to break the surface of her face._

 _Maria moved her mouth soundlessly, though countless questions danced in her mind. In an instant, she swept them out of her mind. She did not need to ask why or how. She was simply glad to see them._

 _"I..." She licked her dry lips and smiled. "I've missed you both so much!"_

 _"We've missed you too, Maria," Katie said with a soft smile._

 _"I tell you this, you will not believe the things that have happened since..." Maria trailed off when she heard gunshots in the distance._

 _"Oh, we know," Irene said. "That's why we've come to warn you."_

 _Maria stared at them. "What do you talk of?"_

 _"Maria," Katie said as she wrapped her frigid fingers around her friend's hand. "I know you want to go see Alucard, but it's very important that you listen to us, now. Something very bad is going to happen. You need to be careful."_

 _The muted drone of an airplane sounded overhead. Maria furrowed her brow. "Something bad? But I know this, Katie. That is why I am leaving."_

 _"No, Maria, you don't understand," Irene interjected. "It's going to happen soon."_

 _Soon? The acrid taste of panic filled her mouth, and it was only exacerbated when she noticed that her friends' faces were out of focus._

 _"What do you mean?" she demanded. "What is it?"_

 _Darkness crept into the corners of the world._

 _"What bad thing do you speak of?"_

 _Katie and Irene's forms darkened, mere shadows of what they were._

 _"Please, tell me!"_

 _"Good luck, Maria..."_

 _"Katie!"_

 _"Maria..."_

 _"Irene!_ _Aspetta_ _!"_

"Maria?"

The girl woke up with a violent jolt. A strong hand pushed her back down, and a pair of hazel eyes swam into view. Etienne was leaning over her, his face taut with concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "You looked like you were having a bad dream."

Maria drew in a deep breath, willing her battering heart to still, as she took in her surroundings: A sterile, white plane cabin with three aisles of silent passengers. In the next row over, a stewardess was serving soda to a trio of children. Somewhere behind Maria's seat, a man snored quietly. She turned her head to one side and saw fields of clouds through a little window, the sun smiling down upon them like a doting father. On her other side, Etienne and Hugh were watching her.

Maria let herself fall back in her seat. "I am fine," she assured them. "There is no need to concern."

The two men exchanged looks, but did not press her further. Maria was glad for it. Now that she was conscious again, memories of the past twenty-four hours came back to her. If she was not so exhausted, she would probably cry. Instead, she sat, slumped by the window, holding the image of Alucard in the cemetery carefully in her mind. She shifted in her seat, and the muscles deep within her cramped slightly, a bittersweet reminder of last night. She leaned her head against the cold window and closed her eyes, willing the burning in her throat to go away.

"Ah, just to let you know, Miss Sartori," Etienne said, "we're landing in Zurich pretty soon."

Maria nodded, offering him a weak smile in thanks. Usually connecting flights annoyed her because it took longer to arrive at her destination. But now, she could not care less. In fact, she was happy for the delay. She was not looking forward to returning to Italy and pretending to live normally again. Knowing she would not be able to go back to St. Ferdinand's made her return that much harder to stomach. Briefly, she wondered if she could convince Hugh and Etienne to let her hide in Switzerland.

Half an hour later, the plane touched down onto the tarmac and rattled Maria out of her sad reverie. She pulled herself to her feet, grabbed her purse, and shuffled out into the aisle, one mercenary on either side of her.

In the Zurich airport, sweaty businessmen, frantic families, and arguing couples hurried to and fro. Maria barely heard the noise as she glanced up at one of the many television screens that decorated the walls. Three thirty in the afternoon. She had two and a half hours before going home, which was no longer her home.

After passing through the gate, Etienne said, "I gotta take a leak." Then, remembering Maria was in his company, he added politely, "Maria, why don't you stay with Hugh? I'll be back soon."

In a matter of minutes, she was standing with the remaining mercenary by the toilets, watching the people go by. They stood in morose silence. Maria did not have the energy or the motivation to make small talk, and Hugh was too busy standing at attention, scanning the airport for any potential threats.

Two minutes passed. Five minutes passed. Maria's legs were swelling up, and she glanced over her shoulder at the men's room. Hugh looked too, but he wondered in silence.

Six minutes passed. Then, eight. Finally, Hugh sighed and uncrossed his arms.

"I'm going to go see what the hell's taking him," he decided. "Will you be all right if you stay here by yourself for a moment?"

Would she be all right? What a question! Biting back the urge to laugh, Maria answered, "Yes. I will stay here."

With a curt nod, Hugh hurried into the bathroom, but not before throwing one last glance over his shoulder. Maria returned the look with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She knew he was forbidden to leave her alone, but she was an adult; she was capable of taking care of herself, especially in a populated airport.

She resumed her people-watching, gripping the strap of her purse tightly, when she heard a strange sound. It was a sad, lilting noise, the rhythm routinely interrupted with wet sniffles and hiccups. Maria squinted at the throngs of people and found the source of the noise: A skinny little boy, no more than thirteen or so, was standing in the middle of the airport, sobbing. He stood with his back to Maria, but she could still hear him crying as he whipped his head back and forth, the movement skewing the baseball cap on his blonde head.

Forgetting her sadness for a moment, Maria watched the boy look for his parents. She glanced about the place too, hoping a concerned father or frantic mother would soon emerge from the crowds and scold the boy for running off. Instead, the child continued to stand there, his shoulders shaking, and his sides heaving. Maria frowned, her heart growing heavy for the poor thing. Were there any security guards around? When she did not see any, she shouldered her purse and decided that Hugh and Etienne would forgive her for walking a few steps away from the bathrooms.

She approached the little boy and reached out to tap him on the shoulder. However, before she could lay a finger on him, he turned on his heel and took off down the corridor. Maria watched him go, momentarily stunned. Was he frightened? Running around would do him no good; the best thing to do when lost was to stay put. Her current predicament fled from her mind, and Maria picked up her skirt and hurried after the boy.

As she ran, Maria searched the airport for either a blue baseball cap, or a security guard who would find the child's parents. She came across neither, and before she knew it, Maria found herself in an unfamiliar part of the airport. There were less people in this corridor, and the few that passed her gave her strange looks. Eventually, Maria slowed and attempted to find a sign to point her in the right direction, when the sound of the child's crying reached her ears again. She turned and saw a blonde head bob around the corner, disappearing from sight once again. The rattling of a heavy garage door echoed through the hallway, ringing in her ears. Maria dashed after the boy, calling out, "Wait!"

When she rounded the bend, Maria skidded to a halt, as if she was about to run head first into a brick wall. Paralyzed, she drank in the sight before her, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing.

There, on the cement floor of the garage, under the sickly fluorescent light, were the bodies of Hugh and Etienne. They were piled on top of each other, an ominous dark pool spreading under their bodies. Hugh, the one on top, sported an unsightly gash in his temple.

A rush of air left Maria's lungs, as if someone had just punched her in. She opened her mouth, but found that she could not scream. Only a pathetic little whimper left her lips.

" _Fraulein!_ So nice to see you again!"

The chillingly familiar voice startled Maria. Slowly, she raised her eyes from the corpses to see Warrant Officer Schrodinger standing over them, blue baseball cap in hand. He gave her a nasty little smirk and scuffed the toe of his sneaker on Hugh's shoulder.

"So sorry about your body guards," he said in a tone that suggested he was not sorry at all. "But they were in the way, you see. The Commander would never forgive me if I let them take you."

Maria's mouth hung open. Terrible tremors crept up her body, shaking her to her core, but she found she could not move. She was paralyzed, trapped by Schrodinger's mocking smile and the bodies of her companions. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she told herself she was still dreaming. Surely, she would wake up soon.

The hulking shadow that suddenly loomed over her cowering figure proved otherwise. Maria whirled around, lungs filling with air for another attempt at a scream, but she was too slow. A meaty fist came down on her head, and darkness enveloped her before she could hit the floor.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

A heartbeat.

Footsteps.

A machine, humming somewhere in the distance.

A murmured conversation.

These were the sounds that hung over Maria's head as she regained consciousness. Unable to lift her eyelids, she laid on her belly, he cheek against something smooth and cold- the floor? She drew in a deep breath, wincing at the stinging ache in the back of her skull. She knew she had to get up, but she feared her weakened muscles would not support her.

There were other people around her. She sensed them, even when they were not muttering to each other. Heavy footfalls approached her, and before she could panic, a rough hand grasped her shoulder. She let herself be turned over, furrowing her brow when her red blossoms flowered before her eyes. There was a light source somewhere above her. With another deep breath, she opened her eyes a crack.

A spider was looking down at her. A horrible, pale, grinning spider, with glass eyes and stringy blonde hair. Beyond his head, just left of the hanging lamp, Maria saw another beast, one that was uncannily familiar to her...

"Ah, you are up!" the Major exclaimed, delighted. "Did you enjoy your sleep?"

Maria screamed wordlessly and scrambled to her feet. She balanced herself on weak knees, ignoring the pounding in her head and the way the blonde spider chuckled as he backed away from her. His retreating footsteps echoed as she glanced around the room, only to find sheer walls of metal towering over her. Beneath her feet, the floor was vibrating slightly, as if a few dozen beehives hid below it.

"My, my, you are a skittish one," the Major noted lightly. He took a few steps towards her, folding his hands behind his back."Quite sneaky, too. Did Integra Hellsing truly believe that sending you away on a public airline would keep you out of our hands? I truly am disappointed. Not much of a chase, wouldn't you say?"

Maria moved her mouth, trying to think of something to say, but words failed her. She would have liked to tell herself that none of this was real, but the pain in her head and the chill in her bones was too acute to deny.

"Well," the Major continued, "you are here now, and that is what matters." With a sweeping gesture, he announced, "Welcome aboard the zeppelin, _Deus Ex Machina, mein fraulein!_ Don't look so disappointed with your current surroundings. I assure you, the main decks are much nicer."

Maria glanced down at the vibrating floor again, and for a moment, she feared was going to faint. A million questions swarmed her mind. Her breaths rattled in her chest, and her shoes started to blur. She started to say things, unaware of which language she was speaking in, but trailed off every time.

"Now, now, there's no need to overreact," the Major chastised her amicably. "We know of your allegiance to Hellsing, but if you're worried we're going to kill you, you may put that fear to rest."

Maria finally looked at him, flooded with relief, even as he stepped closer to her. "No?" was all she managed to say.

"Certainly not. Killing you serves us no purposes. In fact, my dear, your life has been the very reason we were able to achieve our goals in the time that we did... Well, in part, if I'm being perfectly honest."

"What..." She worked her mouth, which had gone dry. "What do you speak of?"

She was answered by the loud creaking of a door off to her left somewhere. Maria started and turned to the source of the noise, watching a couple of silhouettes move in the darkness. One of them was the human spider, whom Maria did not even notice was missing until now.

"I told you before that I am in no position to inform you," the Major continued as she watched the shadows. "But, there is someone else who can. Maria Sartori, may I present to you our loyal commander, Lars K. Volkenrath."

A second shape moved in the darkness, trailing behind the spider. Maria could hardly make him out, but his voice boomed at her, soft yet unmistakably authoritative.

"Maria?" he murmured. "Oh, _Liebling_ , is that really you?"

The person finally emerged from the shadows, a large, hulking man, that was nearly as tall as the blonde spider. He was draped in an oversized trench coat, and his armband boasted a large swastika. A peaked cap sat on his head, where tufts of grey hair stuck out around his ears and framed his stubbly jaw. But, the most frightening thing about this man, Commander Lars K. Volkenrath, was his left eye: Milky blue, dilated, the grey flesh of his cheek marred by scar tissue and varicose veins.

The closer he came to her, the worse Maria trembled. He did not seem bothered by her reaction, though. Instead, he smiled at her, his abnormally long canines glinting in the light.

"Ah, such a fine young woman," he said with a sigh. "You look just like your... Well, like your mother."

The tremors disappeared as soon as those words left his mouth. Maria stared at him, unaware that she was slowly lowering her fists. She opened her mouth, intent on discovering who he was. But, all that left her lips were, "My... mother...?"

Volkenrath nodded, his smile widening with each step. He stopped mere feet from her, drinking her in, his deformed eye glazing over with emotion. Maria could not have run away even if she tried.

"For so long, I have waited," he murmured. "For so, so long... Now, I finally have you, my beautiful granddaughter."

* * *

 **AND THERE IT IS. THE THING I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE SINCE LAST SPRING. Sorry for the caps, but I'm just so excited! And yes, this was a rather short chapter, but I promise the next one will be longer... The Commander definitely has some explaining to do!**

 **Quick translation for anyone's who is interested or doesn't know: _Liebling_ is a German pet name, the closest translation to English probably being "darling." **

**Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this! And, as always, thank you so much for your patience and continued support. Until next time, dear readers, I leave you with this to chew on :)**


	18. A Family History

**Hello, my dear readers.**

 **Yes, I'm back from the dead! I owe you all a huge apology for disappearing. Truth be told, this story burnt me out a little bit, and I had to put it aside while I regrouped and worked on other projects. Truthfully, at one point, I wasn't sure if I'd have the patience to see this story all the way through. But, the fact that I had left it hanging really bothered me, and eventually, I decided it was time to go back. So, I hope you have all been well, and for those of you who are still reading this fic, I thank you deeply from the bottom of my heart.**

 **Anyway, I can't say how regularly I'll be updating, but know that both me and my beta are fully reinvested in _Thirty Pieces_. I'll do my best and write until there are no more words to be written for this story :)**

* * *

The words crashed around them, deafening. Maria was vaguely aware that her mouth was hanging open, but she could do nothing to close it. The Commander's voice seemed to echo through her mind.

 _Granddaughter..._

Volkenrath smiled at her as he took off his peaked cap. He ran a hand through his grey hair, his eyes never leaving her.

"Ah..." she began weakly. " _Ch...Che...?_ "

"Yes, that's right, my dear," Volkenrath assured her, almost giddily. "I am your grandfather, your _opa._ "

A wave of nausea rose up in Maria's stomach. She hated that he had called her "dear." The only person who ever called her that was Alucard. It was wrong hearing it from a Nazi, who claimed to be her own flesh and blood.

The world began to spin. Maria was shaking her head. " _N-No... Non e possibile..._ You are lying..."

A heavy sigh escaped Volkenrath's lips as he placed his cap back on his head. "No, Maria, I am not," he told her earnestly. "I can imagine this is a shock to you, but it is true."

He was too close to her. Maria felt tiny and vulnerable in his shadow. She could feel her feet carrying her backwards, when the Major's voice rang out through the hull.

"Well, I shall leave you two in peace for now. I see you have a lot of catching up to do."

Maria watched him turn on his heel and strut towards the door, shoulders squared and hands clasped behind his back. The tall blonde man trailed after him, his lab coat billowing with each step. Before the two men stepped out of the room, the Major looked over his shoulder and added, "Fear not, _fraulein._ The Commander will explain everything I could not."

He disappeared through the door, and the second man turned to shut it. Before he did, though, he glanced at the Commander and said, "Lars, I will return within twenty minutes. Make sure you're done before then."

Volkenrath nodded. "Yes, Doctor, that will be plenty of time."

The door swung closed, clanking hard against the jamb. Marias eyes darted about the room, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Her nostrils flared, and her heart beat against her breast with frightening rapidity.

"Ah, _Liebling_ , don't look like that," Volkenrath told her. "You are my family. I will not hurt you."

Maria finally made herself look at him. His arms were at his sides as he smiled dotingly upon her. It reminded her of the way Father Anderson used to look at her, before all of this happened. She urgently wished to see the priest again. It had been a while since she entertained the thought, but she missed him dearly now. She bit her lip and tried to keep her sorrow at bay.

"You will not hurt me?" she repeated. "It is a joke?"

Volkenrath furrowed his brow. "Not at all. Why would I make light of that?"

"Many things have happened, and I have almost lost my life many times. But, you say you do not want to hurt me. I do not believe it."

Her words hung between them, poisoning the air. Maria felt as if she was disconnected from her body, and she was watching this situation play out from the sidelines. She could imagine how pale and drawn she looked, shoulders hunched and hands at her chest. Volkenrath sighed again and strode off to the side.

"Yes, you have been imperiled more times than you should have been."

The scraping of metal on metal sounded across the room. Maria watched as the Commander dragged an old utility chest out from the shadows. He dropped it in the middle of the room and sat down. He took up nearly half the box.

"You have no reason to believe anything I say," Volkenrath continued. "But you will, I promise." He patted the tiny space next to him. "Come sit, Maria. I'm not going to bite you."

She did not move. Instead, Maria eyed his hand with trepidation, wondering what he would do if she did not obey.

"Granddaughter," he said sharply, "if you want answers, it would behove you to sit and listen."

With that prompt, the girl forced her legs to move one at time, until the space between her and the chest was closed. She came down hard on the seat, allowing her legs to give out from under her. She heard herself give out a little "oof!", but she barely felt the pain in her bones; she was paying attention to the beige wad Volkenrath was pulling out of his coat pocket. A file folder.

"I must apologize," he was saying, "for keeping you in the dark this entire time. I know the Major made insinuations to you, but he promised to leave the talking to me. And if those damned Valentine brothers had not left you in the wolves' den, you would have been enlightened by now. Alas, we can only hope for so much in life, can't we, _Liebling_? Now, before you question me on our blood relations any further, take a look at this."

Volkenrath pulled a faded yellow sheet from the folder and held it under the light. Maria's eyes went immediately to the title of the document: _Certificato di Nascita._

"Take it," Volkenrath urged. "Read it for yourself."

It was her birth certificate. With quivering hands, Maria mutely accepted the document and held it up to her eyelevel. The top of the page boasted her birthplace: Rome, in the Lazio region. And, below that was her full name: Maria Angela Sartori, daughter of Vittorio Sartori and Luisa Volkenrath.

Time suddenly slowed, and the world outside the paper faded to black. Maria read the names of her parents over and over. The name _Volkenrath_ seemed the boldest, the least faded of all the names. The Commander was talking to her. His voice sounded far away, but she heard him anyway.

"You see now, Maria? There is no need to be distrustful anymore. I am telling the truth."

Silently, she tried to digest the information, but thinking about it too hard made her stomach hurt. She looked up at Volkenrath, whose face was so close she could almost see the veins pulsating around his infected eye.

"You are... really my grandfather?" she managed.

He nodded, offering her a small smile. Maria could almost see the relief in his face when she spoke those words.

"But..." Maria looked down at the paper again. "How...? How can this be? I have no family..."

A heavy hand came down on her shoulder. She jumped and tried to shake it off, but Volkenrath's grip was too strong. She sat there, hunched over, and looked at her shoes.

"That is a long story, Maria, but we have time," the Commander said. "It has been so long since I revisited such a memory, and it pains me to do so now. But, you are finally here, and you deserve to know the truth."

His joyful demeanor was gone, and his face looked markedly older now. He lowered his gaze, and the frown that tugged at his mouth created new wrinkles in his cheeks. Maria watched him, waiting impatiently for him to continue.

"Do you know what happened to your mother?" he started. "Why it was that you ended up in an orphanage?"

Maria blinked. "They... _Bene,_ my- F-Father Anderson told me that my parents died in a road accident... A car that hit them, I think..."

A mirthless grin spread over Volkenrath's face as he shook his head. "Typical story to tell a child. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

Maria eyed him. "Why do you ask me this?"

"Because it appears that you know very little about your family and our history," he said with a strange edge to his voice. "Tell me, Maria, did your Father Anderson ever tell you who your mother was, or where she came from?"

There was a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, as if he was daring her to give the wrong answer. All Maria could do was stare back.

"Luisa was my daughter," Volkenrath said after a moment. "My only one. She had an older brother, but he did not survive the war. Well... Here..."

He flipped open the folder again and produce a black and white photograph with one bent corner. He handed it to her and said, "This is Luisa. I believe she was about fifteen when that photograph was taken. It was after the war, in any case."

Maria gasped. Standing on a porch, dressed in a sun dress and loafers, was a teenage girl that looked almost exactly like her. She had a wide forehead, a mane of curly dark hair, and a button nose. Maria gaped at the picture, swept away on a feeling she had never experienced before. There was an uncomfortable tugging in her heart, an inexplicable connection she could not explain in words. It made her sad and nostalgic at the same time.

She was so taken with the image of her dead mother she barely noticed that there was another woman in the picture. Standing behind Luisa, her hands placed firmly on the teenager's shoulders, was a stern-looking woman with a tight bun, horn-rimmed glasses, and a puckered mouth. She looked infinitely less pleasant than the younger girl.

"Ah, yes," Volkenrath interjected, "and that is your grandmother, my wife. Her name was Klara Csaszar. When I accompanied the Furher to Budapest, I met your _omi_ there at a cafe... Such a beautiful young lady. I even remember the colour of the dress she was wearing..."

Maria furrowed her brow and looked up from the picture. "My grandmother was Hungarian?"

"Yes, but she didn't stay in her home country for long," Volkenrath explained. "Within the year, we married, and she moved back to Austria with me. She acquired dual citizenship, and when Luisa came along in '44, she too was a citizen of the Third Reich."

Maria did not know what to say. She only continued to look at her mother's image. She hardly felt like sorting through the information Volkenrath was giving her. She took it as it came, disallowing herself to dwell too much on one aspect or another. If she did, she would go mad.

"None of this lasted," he continued, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. "You've learned your history, haven't you, Maria? You must know what happened in 1945..."

Maria did not say a word. She could not remember anything from her history classes at the moment.

"The Reich fell," Volkenrath said finally. His face hardened, and his mouth settled into a firm frown. Maria saw his canines flash in the light as he spoke.

"And the Hellsing Organization came down upon us. Millennium had no choice but to flee." He looked at Maria and added, "But I'm sure those degenerates already told you that."

Maria lowered the picture and tried to respond. His expression frightened her. " _Che?_ "

"The Hellsings," the Commander snapped. "They told you a thing or two about Millennium, didn't they? Filled your head with filthy lies and tried to keep you from me? They did, I know it. If I ever meet those Valentine brothers in hell, I will kill them a second time for leaving you in that mansion. I will not have any blood of mine near such filth again!"

His voice was rising to a hysterical pitch. Maria recoiled from him, worried he was going to lash out or throw something. He did not seem to notice her terror. Instead, he clenched his hands into fists and drew in a breath, his nostrils flaring. Eventually, his face relaxed, and his eyes lost their murderous gleam.

"Don't look so frightened, _Liebling_ ," he told her softly. "I do not fault you. I wish only for you to listen to what I have to say."

Maria nodded and swallowed down hard. "And... what happened to my mother?"

"She was fine," Volkenrath said. "But I did not stay to see her grow up. After Hellsing decimated our forces, I fled with the survivors to South America and left Klara and Luisa behind. They escaped into Switzerland as the Allies advanced into the Reich.

"I missed them dearly," he admitted. His eyes fell to the floor, and for a moment, he seemed to forget he was talking to Maria. "Klara raised my daughter to the best of her ability, and she never remarried. Though I abandoned her, she stayed loyal to me... She would write me every so often, and she was trying to save money to come to Brazil. But with a child, and next to nothing of a savings account, she simply could not."

"Then why did you not send for her?" Maria asked. For a moment, she forgot who she was talking to, and where she was. Somewhere in her heart, she felt a flicker of pity for the man who appeared to genuinely miss his wife and child.

"I could not," he explained. "We were wanted as war criminals, and we had to rebuild in secrecy. Klara did not even know of my involvement with Millennium. No outsiders could be trusted. It was for the good of our people, Maria. Klara and Luisa would have to wait some time before we could become a family again."

Maria silently disagreed that abandoning one's family in favour of an evil government was a good thing. But, she merely listened as Volkenrath went on.

"I believe it was 1950 when they moved to Italy. Luisa started going to a school in Milan, and her mother worked two jobs. It was a hard life, not a lot of money. She told me so in her letters... Your poor mother was teased by her classmates for her hand-me-down clothes. I could not do a thing but write her back and apologize for not being there..."

Maria frowned, unsettled by how broken the Commander suddenly looked. This ever-growing pity for the man who orchestrated her kidnapping was even more unsettling, though.

"Eventually, Luisa grew up, and she left to find a job in Rome. Your mother, from what I understand, liked to write. Klara told me she ended up in an office somewhere downtown. A secretarial position, I believe. But, she..."

Volkenrath heaved a heavy sigh and looked away. He clenched his jaw, as if he was in some kind of pain, and spat out, "She met your father there."

Maria's eyes widened, and her heart leapt. She was so focused on learning about her mother, she nearly forgot about her father. A thousand new questions ran through her mind. The Commander's voice discouraged her from giving them voice, though. The pity in her heart was giving away to fear again.

"Vittorio was a journalist, politically inclined too… A far leftist, just like his cur of a father. I wasn't surprised. I didn't expect anything less from a Sartori."

Maria swallowed down her fear and drew on the nearly depleted reserves of her courage. "What did his father do?"

The Commander glared at Maria, as if she had offended him. "He was the traitor responsible for ending Italy's tie to Millennium. The son of a whore infiltrated the National Fascist Party, gained their trust, learned of Mussolini's tie to Millennium... It would have been wonderful, Maria. The Furher would have granted the Major permission to recruit Italian soldiers into our program, and we would have been stronger than we already were…

"Of course, Eugenio Sartori could not allow that to happen. The filthy rat learned of Millennium and passed our classified information off to the socialists in the North. The whole region was thrown into chaos because of him, and the _duce_ decided to withdraw Italian support from the project. Of course, we found the bastard and did away with him nicely, but the damage was already done."

Maria felt as if she had swallowed her tongue. She sat there in silence, marvelling at the fact that her paternal grandfather had worked to thwart the monsters that held her captive now. While she tried not to think about what the Nazis did to him, Volkenrath continued.

"Now, keep that in mind as I tell you this, _Liebling_ , and try not to hate me. I assure you, I have spent plenty of time doing just that." He folded his hands and stared across the room. "Your grandmother didn't approve of your mother's choice of partner. She warned her the Sartoris were famous enemies to our people _,_ and that Bolshevism led to degeneration. Luisa disregarded her, though, and she moved in with the swine anyway. Klara wrote me the news, and..."

Maria glanced at the Commander to see he was gritting his teeth. The sound of his canines clicking together grated on her nerves. It was an angry, dangerous sound, and Maria fought the urge to move away from him.

"I could not see straight," Volkenrath growled, his gaze far away. "I was furious, and why should I not be? My daughter- My beautiful, Aryan daughter- she married that-that _bastard,_ that son of a... And she just went and made herself his whore! A traitorous little slut, that's who your fucking mother was!"

The atmosphere was electric, charged with hatred. He inhaled deeply and managed to calm himself, though his voice took on a dead, robotic intonation.

"I do not take insults to my bloodline kindly, Maria. I did what had to be done."

Maria's stomach dropped down into her toes. "What do you speak of?"

"I was her father, and fathers need to discipline their children sometimes..."

"What did you do!?" she demanded, her voice echoing off the metal walls.

"I only punished her as I saw fit."

Maria leapt to her feet and backed away from Volkenrath. She felt unclean now, and wanted to get as far away from him as she could. The walls felt as if they were closing in around her, trapping her with the Commander. With nowhere to run, all she could do was stand there and scream at him.

"Murderer! You killed my mother!?"

Volkenrath rose, his hand stretched out towards the frightened girl. " _Liebling_ , I-"

"You murdered my father too, yes? I know it, I can see the truth in your eyes! You are a monster! I have no parents and it is because of you!"

"Maria-"

"How could you do this!? She- Your own child- Why did you... You are a devil! I had a family, and you took them from me! I..." She struggled, choking on her own horror. " _I wish you to rot in hell!_ "

As soon as the curse left her mouth, Volkenrath marched up to Maria, his eyes ablaze. She tried to dodge him, but he too quick. He grabbed her by the shoulders and leered at her, his sharp teeth bared.

"Do not speak to me of hell, girl," he bellowed. "I will show you hell if you raise your voice at me again. I did not kill Luisa and Vittorio, but I dispatched a team to do it for me. They blew your mother's brains out, and they disembowelled your father. I saw the photographs, Maria, it was magnificent! And you would have had your head bashed in too if it weren't for one spineless private."

Volkenrath's horrible words faded in the air around them. Maria's vision was blurry, and her throat was tight. It was only then that she realized she was crying. She watched, sobbing, as the Commander drew away and let his face fall. He looked away from her, but he did not take his hands off her shoulders.

"When the mission was complete," he murmured, "this boy, I cannot remember his name, was checking the rooms in the house- I believe he was trying to be thorough. But, when he found you in your crib, I suppose he did not have the strength to perform the execution. You were only an infant, after all. Sometime after that, he dropped you off at the nearest orphanage and threw himself off the Ponte Sant'Angelo. That is what the Major told me, in any case... You must understand, _Liebling,_ it was difficult for me to give the order."

Maria did not believe him at all, but she dared not speak.

"I had no idea you existed," the Commander admitted. "And for some time, I was avenged. I carried on as usual, and I was confident in my decision to punish your mother and save my honour. But, eventually, the situation weighed heavily on me, and my morale dropped… As did my troops', and eventually, the Major noticed. It was almost fifteen years after I gave the order when he told me about a little girl at Saint Ferdinand's, who had been dropped there the night of the executions.

"I cannot describe to you how it felt, hearing this. At first I was angry that my squadron had failed to eradicate the Sartori line. But, then, I was glad. Klara had died a year ago by this point, and I felt hopeless. My wife was dead, and my daughter had betrayed me… There was no one alive to bring a new world order to, no one to avenge against the Allies… But, then there was you. My only remaining descendant."

Volkenrath looked down at her, the weight of his confession bearing down on his shoulders. Maria could feel it too, and she wished to sit down before his guilt crushed her. Was this really what she had suffered for? To make the Commander feel better about his senseless murders?

"It was then the Major made a deal with me," he said. "If I could ready my men for battle ahead of schedule, then he would deliver you to me. That was enough motivation to forget my sorrows and become the commander the Major and my soldiers needed. Thus, I kept my end of the bargain. Thanks to my efforts, the attack on London was scheduled for the summer of 1999, instead of 2005. The Major was infinitely pleased. And now, he has fulfilled his part of the deal. You are mine now, Maria, and though you may bear the Sartori name, I know, at heart, you are as much a Volkenrath as I."

The Commander let go of her and walked back to the utility chest. Maria stared at the floor, immobile. Her tears had dried, and instead of grieving for her murdered parents, she was now fearing for her life. She knew the truth now, and it was almost too terrible for her to bear: She was nothing but a prize, a blank sheet upon which Volkenrath could project his twisted family values. Out of all the adversaries she faced since her ordeal began, the Commander was perhaps the most frightening of them all.

"Well, _Liebling_ , do you have any questions?"

Maria looked up and saw him sitting on the chest, hands on his knees, an affectionate smile plastered on his face. For an instant, Maria was overwhelmed by pure, burning hatred for the man. She wanted to grab him by the hair and bash his head into the metal wall. See how he liked having his brains paint the room. Then, she wanted to jump from the zeppelin and land back in her little brick triplex, where Katie and Irene were making spaghetti and discussing their volunteerism.

She was too fearful to even speak, though. All she could do was stand there and let her emotions run through her mind. She knew she could not speak freely, even if she was able to. She had not forgotten the way Volkenrath threatened her only moments before.

As Maria was trying to sort through her thoughts, the door opened. She turned and saw the Doctor enter the room. He was flanked by two hulking guards, who wore matching uniforms and rounded helmets.

"Everything is ready, Commander," he announced. "Are you finished here?"

"For now, yes." Volkenrath waved his hand. "She's all yours now, Herr Doctor."

Maria jumped, as if she had just been struck with a cattle prod. "What?"

"Now, Maria…" The Commander approached the frightened girl and lightly touched her arm. "Don't be scared, everything is going to be all right."

"What do you speak of?" Maria demanded. She could hear the approaching footsteps of the bodyguards. Primal warnings went off in her mind, but she knew escape was impossible.

"You mustn't be frightened," Volkenrath continued, as if he did not hear her. "We have all gone through this operation, even me. We come out of it a better version of ourselves, and you will to. I promise you this."

"Operation?" Maria repeated. "What operation? Please, tell me!"

The guards placed themselves on either side of her. Their proximity was suffocating, though Maria found she could not move away from them. She glanced warily from Volkenrath to the guards, silently pleading for an answer.

"Surely you have noticed by now, I'm no ordinary man." The Commander bared his teeth again and tapped his elongated canine. "This is because of the operation. And, once the doctor is done, you will be an extraordinary woman too!"

Whatever breath Maria had in her lungs was expelled, as if Volkenrath had just punched her in the stomach. A sickening sense of dread welled up inside her, closing off her airways and blurring her vision. The world swayed for a moment, but before Maria could fall, two pairs of hands wrapped around her arms and made her stand. The contact came like a physical blow, and before she realized what she was doing, Maria heard herself screaming in Italian.

"No! No, don't do this! You can't make me into a vampire! Please, have mercy! Oh, God, please-"

"I'm sorry, Maria, but that was the deal," the Commander said over the din. "If you're to stay with me, then you must fight. Do this for me, and the sins of your parents will be forgiven. Show me what a Volkenrath you really are."

Maria tried to pull her arms from the guards' grasp, but they were too strong. They dragged her away from her grandfather and towards the door, where the Doctor waited. The girl kicked and struggled, landing blows on the men's shins that did not slow them down at all. She called for help, not caring who it came from, but it was no use. The guards forced her out of the room and down a narrow hallway. The Doctor strode ahead of them, his boots clicking against the grated floor, as he ignored the hysterical woman.

Before long, Maria was pushed through a rusted metal door. The room beyond was flooded with sterile white light, and she was momentarily blinded. She could only feel the guards lift her, drop her on a hard surface, and bind her hands and feet before she knew what was happening. Maria whipped her head around, trying to shake off the fingers that tightened a buckle over her forehead.

"Let me go!" Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled from the corners. "For the love of God, _do not do this!_ You will make me a ghoul! I will be not be of use to you!"

"A ghoul? Oh dear, has someone been naughty?"

A shadow appeared overhead, blotting out the blindly light for a moment. Strands of blonde hair fell into the Doctor's face, but they did not obscure his cruel little grin. " _Fraulein,_ you could have slept with the entire Hellsing Organization, and you'd still be a proper vampire by the time I finish. This isn't a traditional transformation. Virgin or whore, every one of my patients keeps their autonomy, and then some. You shall see."

Maria's chest tightened painfully. As she struggled to breath, she was suddenly convinced that she was going to die. Never mind that the doctor knew of her relationship with Alucard. None of that seemed to matter as a full blown panic attack threatened to consume her.

As violent tremors set into her muscles, an oval-shaped object hovered over her face: An anaesthetic mask. A terrible cry ripped from Maria's throat as she tried to avoid it, hoping in vain to escape. Her arms, legs, and head were tied to the operating table, though. She could only watch as a faceless assistant covered her mouth and nose with the device. Maria held her breath, screwing her eyes shut. Busy footsteps, soft chatter in German, and the buzz of the overhead lamp filled her head. She would not give in. She could not allow this to happen.

Still, the mask would not leave her face. Basic instinct eventually overrode willpower, and Maria sucked in a desperate breath. She choked on the noxious fumes as the nurse encouraged her.

"Very good, _fraulein._ One more breath should do it."

Maria was not able to inhale deeply. She was retching violently, breathing in shallow gasps between the spasms. To her horror, the corners of her vision soon began to dim.

"Doctor? We're just about ready."

 _No,_ Maria wanted to say. _You won't succeed. When Alucard finds you, he will kill you for..._

She never got to finish that thought. It was as if the anaesthetic hurried to silence her as soon as she brought up her prince. Before she knew what was happening, her vision tunnelled, and Maria fell back into a dark, empty abyss.

* * *

 **And that's it for now! The next chapter is currently being written, so it shouldn't be long now. Thanks again for reading, and Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to you all :D**


	19. A Descent into Hell

**Hello my dears! Welcome back, and I hope you enjoyed your holidays. Here's the next installment of the story, and I want to say thank you to everyone who's still with me. My hiatus was really long, but it means a lot to me that you guys are still reading, reviewing, and favouriting. And, of course, thank you to the readers who just recently joined me on this journey- Welcome!**

 **By the way, some of you asked me if the Commander is actually the Captain or another canon higher-up. Given the content of this chapter, I can finally answer you: The Commander is, for all intents and purposes, an original character. I didn't mix him up with the Captain. However, the Commander is not completely my own invention either. He's actually a nameless character you see for all of thirty seconds in OVA V. If any of you can guess who he is based on a snippet of dialogue in this chapter, I'll send you a cookie as a prize.**

 **Anyway, to continue...**

* * *

Maria woke up with a jolt. She shot up from her bed, clawing at the space in front of her, ready to fend off anything that tried to attack. However, there was no danger. The room was empty, and she had been dreaming.

The small space in which she awoke was illuminated by one overhead light. There were a few tables strewn about, holding an array of medical devices, from scalpels to clamps. Somewhere behind the bed, a machine was beeping, and a thick, sweet smell was rising up from the grated floor. Maria's stomach growled.

She wrapped her arms around her torso and winced. Her memories were fuzzy, and her muscles were weak, but she knew she had to leave. Mustering all her strength, Maria threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the mattress. Her cardigan and skirt were gone, replaced with a thin hospital gown.

Something humid and synthetic constricted around her arm. She glanced down and saw an IV in the crook of her elbow. The skin was bruised, with shades of blue, purple, and yellow spreading just below the surface. Her veins pulsated against the galaxy of colour, pushing the skin up and letting it fall back each time. She did not remember ever sustaining an injury with so much detail…

Maria let out a strangled cry and leapt off the bed. She yanked out the IV and threw it across the room. Droplets of saline glittered in the dim light as the tube fell. That sickly sweet smell was back again, more powerful than ever this time. Maria sniffed and looked down at her arm, the apparent source of the smell.

Blood trailed down the puncture wound, thick and dark. Maria stared, ignoring the pounding in her head and the tingling weakness in her legs. She licked her dry lips, wishing suddenly only for something to eat. No, that wasn't right. The thought of bread and meat was not appealing at the moment. In fact, she was thirsty…

Maria's head jerked up, her mouth falling open as memories flashed before her eyes: The grinning face of the Commander, the glare of the Doctor's glasses, the shadow of the anaesthetic mask. A wave of dread crashed over her. She rushed to the other side of the room, where a two-way mirror sat waiting to be looked in.

Although there was not much light, Maria could see her reflection clearly. In fact, it was almost as if she could see herself better out of the light. She looked as she always did, with her brown hair, green eyes, and sturdy figure. Still, something was not right. She had been tired before, but she never looked this pale. Fearing the worst, she brought her face up to the glass and pulled her lips back over her teeth.

A horrified screech cut through the quiet, stretching out into an unending wail. The creature in the mirror leaned over, its mouth wide open to reveal two rows of sharp teeth. The sight made Maria scream louder. She hung her head and clutched her sides, bellowing out her grief. Tears sprang to her eyes as her keening turned to hysterical sobbing. She could practically feel the ground shake as her world crashed around her. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening to her.

"Ah, _fraulein_ , you should have waited for me to take out your IV."

Maria spun around to see the Doctor standing in the doorway. Volkenrath peered into the room from behind him, a delighted grin creeping onto his face.

" _Mostro!_ " Maria screamed, choking on her tears. "What have you done to me? _What have you done!?_ "

" _Liebling,_ calm yourself."

Volkenrath strode past the Doctor and approached Maria. The elated gleam in his eyes was gone, temporarily masked by the need to quiet Maria down. She recoiled for him, practically jumping to the other side of the room. The speed at which she did this disoriented and frightened her.

"Do not come near me!" she wailed. "You did this! Look at me!" She pointed to her canines. " _Look at my teeth!_ "

"Maria, that is normal," the Commander cooed. "You will get used to it. You need them to-"

"No, I do not need this!" Maria pressed herself against the rust-covered wall, sliding away from her grandfather. "I did not ask for you to turn me into a monster!"

Volkenrath's mouth fell open, and for a moment, he looked genuinely confused. "You say that as if it is a tragedy. Herr Doctor has worked for hours to give you a wonderful gift! How old are you? Twenty-three, maybe twenty-four? You will never age beyond that, my dear. You will never lose your looks, your mobility, your life…"

Maria shook her head, refusing to believe anything he said. This was a disaster. She was in the company of madmen, and they had turned her into a vampire. The very process by which it had happened was unnatural: She had not been bitten, and she did not experience a physical death. She was an artificial monster with a human face.

The room swayed, and the corners of Maria's vision grew blurry. Volkenrath let out a yell and caught her before she could topple over.

"Get her back in bed," she heard the Doctor saying. "She's too weak to be exerting herself like this. She needs blood."

Maria's head snapped up. She turned just in time to see the Doctor leaving the room, his strides long and urgent. Volkenrath steered her back towards the bed, though Maria's eyes stayed on the door.

"Sit down, granddaughter." He positioned himself between Maria and the exit. She did as she was told, staring past the Commander and trying to comprehend what the Doctor said.

"Where has he left for?"

"You need to gain your strength back," Volkenrath said, apparently not hearing her. "You had a long operation, and there isn't much time before we reach England."

Maria wanted to shake her head, but she was afraid she would be sick. The Commander's words echoed through her mind, back to something he said before the Doctor and his men dragged her off: " _If you are to stay with me, then you must fight…"_

"I cannot do this," she muttered. "Commander… Grandfather…I am no soldier. I cannot fight."

He knelt down to her eye level, bending to catch her gaze. His face was taut, and his eyes danced with some kind of emotion that was equal parts relief and concern. The look suggested Maria's use of the word 'grandfather' had pleased him.

"Of course you can fight," he said. "You are my granddaughter. We are born soldiers- Now don't look at me like that. It is in your genes, _Liebling._ Besides, now that the Doctor is finished with you, you have an entire arsenal of otherworldly powers at your disposal. I know you may not believe it now, but trust me. Once you get something in your stomach, you will feel better."

Words of denial sat on the tipoff her tongue, but the door swung open before Maria could voice them. The Doctor was back, and he had brought someone with him: A small, mustachioed man in a grey jumpsuit. The Doctor pushed the man into the room and blocked the exit, his squared shoulders nearly touching either side of the doorjamb. The man- Maria guessed by his uniform that he was a maintenance worker- glanced around the room before finally noticing Volkenrath.

"Commander!" He stood at attention and saluted. "Herr Doctor said you wished to see me?"

Volkenrath grinned, his teeth poking out over his lips. "Yes, Muller. I would like to introduce you to the newest member of my Waffen-SS division: My granddaughter, Maria."

Muller looked at the young woman and raised his eyebrows. Countless questions passed over his face, but he stayed silent. Instead, he gave her an uncertain smile and said, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, _Fraulein_ Volkenrath."

Maria ignored him and looked at her grandfather. He was still smiling, but there was something nefarious about his expression. That grin looked like the kind that lunatics wore before they did something outlandish or violent…

"Our very talented Doctor just finished with her."

"Happy news, Commander!"

"Yes, very happy indeed." Volkenrath approached Muller, his monstrous height dwarfing both him and Maria. "My dear _Enkelin_ has just woken up, though, and she hasn't had anything to eat since leaving England."

At these words, Muller's face fell, and his eyes bugged out of his head. "C-Commander…?"

That grin broadened, like a great crack in a frozen lake. "You understand, Muller, that Maria will be fighting in the battle tonight… For the glory of the Last Battalion and our dear Major himself. She needs her strength."

The man's mouth fell open, but he could only stammer over half-formed German phrases. Maria watched in horror as Muller's entire body began to shake, almost wincing when she heard the Doctor chuckle from the doorway. She leapt off the bed.

"Commander- Uh, _Opa_ , don't-!"

The Commander paid her no heed. He turned and slashed the man's throat open, his claws glimmering in the overhead lamp. A spray of blood splashed onto Maria, staining her gown and painting her cheeks.

She watched Muller fall, though she barely heard him hit the ground. His entire body convulsed, his grey jumpsuit turning wine red. His gushing neck created a puddle on the floor beneath his head. It inched towards Maria, inviting. She forgot her horror for a moment and stared at her reflection in the dark pool. Her stomach rumbled again, and her mouth salivated.

"Go on," the Doctor said. "We haven't got all night."

Maria picked her gaze up from the immobile Muller and glanced at the two men.

"Don't be shy, _Liebling,_ " Volkenrath murmured. "There's more where that came from."

Somewhere deep down, Maria knew this was beyond wrong. This was evil. What she had become, what the Commander and the Doctor were asking of her, was truly the work of the one she knew as the Adversary.

And yet, as she tried to comprehend the inhumanity of her situation, she could not deny that she was hungry. It was a painful, burning hunger-thirst that cried out to be satisfied. The stranger's blood that covered her gown and face was warm and sweet-smelling. That primal instinct cried louder than any human dignity she retained.

Maria closed her eyes and licked her lips. The blood oozed over her tongue, warm and wet. It was only a droplet, but Maria's mouth was filled with the most savoury flavour she had ever tasted. It shattered the last of her resolve, and before she knew what she was doing, she was on knees, tearing at the mangled flesh of Muller's neck.

His skin gave way easily, separating under her teeth like well-cooked game. The veins burst, spurting blood down her throat and fuelling her hunger. Forgetting herself, Maria tore at the corpse, drinking its blood, biting down hard into the meat. Somewhere off to the side, Volkenrath gave her words of praise and encouragement.

She did not know how long she knelt on the floor, cannibalising Muller. Time was inconsequential when she was so hungry. She gorged herself on the body until her stomach began to ache in a different way. When she sat up and saw the Doctor was no where in sight, she was glad. If she was going to vomit up her dinner, she did not want him around to see.

The longer she sat there, the more Maria began to realize what she had done. She looked at Muller, trying to remember if he was that torn up before she…

Maria looked down at her hands. They were stained red, the sides crusted brown with dried blood. Strips of human flesh were wedged under her fingernails, and her mouth was filled with a salty-sweet aftertaste.

She made herself look at the human she devoured. She wanted to throw back her head and scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to beg someone to kill her for the grave sin she just committed against her fellow man. But, she could not do any of that. There was a congealed lump of filth in her stomach that weighed her down. She could not move, let alone remember how to speak.

"Maria." A pair of hands came down on her shoulders. "I am so proud of you."

The Commander gave her a little pat. Maria imaged herself turning around and scratching his throat open.

"Don't concern yourself with him," he continued. "Muller here has been suspected of defeatism for a while, now. If it wasn't you, it would have been someone else. Besides…" His voice dropped an octave lower. "It gets easier each time. Trust me, dear."

Maria's stomach churned again. A dribble of blood ran down her chin. She swallowed down hard, wincing as her mouth began to water in warning.

"Come now." She was being lifted by the crook of her elbow. "There's not much time. We'll be arriving in London soon, and you're not even dressed yet."

She should have felt more scared. The back of her gown was open, she was covered in blood, and she was being led to an unknown destination. And still, Maria could not find the will to care. What did it matter anymore? She had just consumed the blood with the meat, and the blood was the life.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

An hour later, Maria found herself on the main deck of the _Deus Ex Machina_. She was stationed at the back of the room, standing shoulder to shoulder with fiends out of one of her nightmares.

The soldiers were all vampires. Each one had pale skin, rows of sharp teeth, and a murderous gleam in his otherwise dead eyes. They were in full battle regalia, and Maria looked just like them: Long overcoat, scuffed combat boots, and a helmet that was too large for her. A Waffen-SS patch was sewn onto her right shoulder pad, and a modified MP40 hung off her left. Although the Commander had shown her how to use the gun earlier, she could not remember a single thing he told her. All she could think about now was the fact that she was a vampire, and she was going to be forced into battle.

No one noticed her distress, though. Their attention was on the man at the front of the room. The Major was giving his final instructions to the assembly of monsters.

"It is time for us to open the floodgates of war!"

Maria pressed her lips into a thin line and swallowed. Her stomach had not stopped hurting since she fed on Muller. She feared that she was going to literally be sick with worry.

"Our first target shall be the city of London: The west bank of the Thames, Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, 10 Downing Street, the Ministry of Defence, Buckingham Palace…"

She squeezed the strap of her MP40. The weapon's cartridge rattled. They were floating above the places the Major was listing off, and Maria could not help but to picture all of the unsuspecting civilians, simply going about their daily lives. They did not know it was all going to be taken away from them in a matter of moments.

"… Go forth and destroy everything that you see," the Major continued. "Devour everyone you meet. Feast and imbibe until your hearts content. This mighty capital of eight million souls are nothing but our supper."

Maria's stomach churned dangerously. She bit the inside of her cheek, drawing blood. She was going to be taken out of the zeppelin and marched through the streets of London to commit murder. There was no way out of this. Not even God could help her now. Clearly, He had abandoned her to the mercy of her monstrous grandfather and his twisted superiors.

The Major rose from his seat, just as a soldier approached him with something in his hands. Maria craned her neck to see it was a tray with a single glass of Champaign balanced upon it.

"Come, gentlemen! It is time for us to kill and be killed, to give _unt_ receive death! Now is the occasion, for tonight is a feast, the likes of which has never been seen before."

A low whir sounded from somewhere below deck. The floor vibrated, shaking Maria up through her boots and into her helmet. She swallowed again, staring up at the Major and clenching her jaw. Another wave of nausea roiled in her stomach.

The Major gave a little snicker and raised his glass. " _Prost!_ "

The assembled soldiers mimicked him, holding up drinks Maria did not even realize they had. Their leader's words echoed through the room.

A blast erupted from beneath Maria's feet. It shook the television screens and resonated through to the back of the room. The Major let go of his drink.

And just as the glass shattered on the floor, Maria doubled over and threw up on her boots.

A few soldiers leapt away from her as she sputtered and choked. Someone grumbled about the partly digested meat on their pants. A few chuckled and slapped her on the back, encouraging her through "first time nerves." Not long after, someone grabbed her arm and tried to move her away from the mess.

"There, there, _Liebling,_ it's all right," the Commander assured her. "You have nothing to fear. Rather, your enemies should fear _you_."

Before the humiliation of what just happened could fully sink in, Maria was led away. Dozens of soldiers followed her path, heading down a short flight of stairs and through a door that read _Ausfahrt_ over it. Volkenrath pushed her through and steered her down a dizzying, ill-lit maze of rusted grating, narrow stairs, and hairpin turns. Soldiers waded through the chaos, shouting to each other in German. Every so often, a gauge would hiss and shoot steam out at the passersby. Even more worrisome, blasts like the one that had shot Maria's nerves continued. The zeppelin would recoil and shudder every time it happened.

Maria held tightly onto Volkenrath's arm. There was nothing else she could do. She could not run or hide. She could not fight him or his squadron by herself. Calling for help was not even an option anymore. All she could do was concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

That was until she caught a glimpse of the city below.

Volkenrath led her past a wide viewing bay when her apathy was finally shattered. When she saw the shock of red out the window, she pulled her arm from the Commander's grasp and pressed her face to the glass. Fire and destruction spanned as far as she could see. Thick black smoke blotted out the moon, and a flaming swastika blazed in the city center. Maria saw the wretched display and screamed.

"The city! My god, it is destroyed!" She whirled around and looked at her grandfather. "Have you no pity in your heart? Look what you have done! Think of all of the people…"

Volkenrath was not listening. In fact, he was not even looking at her. His eyes saw through her, past the glass and into the ravaged metropolis that was once London. The far-reaching flames cast eerie shadows on his face, though his eyes blazed with some kind of sick euphoria. It was the look of a man who was drunk, intoxicated by his vice of choice.

"Yes… Look, indeed."

He wrapped his arm around Maria's shoulder and pulled her against him in a one-arm hug. He smelled of blood and cigarette smoke. Maria wanted to pull away, but she was too frightened to move.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the Commander murmured. "Like a twilight view of hell. Below us is the only place that is fit for monsters such as us. It is the only place we would wish to be…"

The other SS soldiers had joined them by the window. Their mouths were open in wolfish smiles, their eyes gleaming with the same drunken anticipation as Volkenrath's. Maria was unsure whether to fear them or hate them.

Before she was forced to listen to her grandfather any further, an unseen intercom crackled to life with new instructions.

"Commence ground combat operation; deploy paratroopers."

"Here we go, you _verdammte schweine._ " The Commander's fingers dug into her skin. " _Off to war!_ "

As the soldiers hurried to their stations, he took Maria away from the window and hassled her into another room. There, the whistling and clanking of machinery was deafening. It was too dark to see, and there were too many things happening at once. Someone wrapped a harness around Maria's torso. Another pulled her gun off her shoulder and handed it to Volkenrath. Somewhere in the chaos, a warm breeze hit her face. It reeked of sulphur and did nothing to cool the burning of her cheeks. Instead, she pulled her mask up over her nose and held her breath.

As the Commander shouted orders at his troops, Maria tried to locate the source of the stench. Something glowed red from across the deck, and a moment passed before she realized she was looking at the sky outside. A hatch had opened to let the foul night in, and from her vantage point, she could see scores of soldiers leaping out.

Volkenrath had her by the arm again, as if he was frightened she would run away if he lost contact for too long. She let him lead her, but before long, she realized she was approaching the opening with him. Her knees shook as they neared the hatch, which looked to her like the mouth of hell.

"Do not take me there!" she cried. "Please, I do not want to go there!"

A sharp pain shot through her arm. She skidded to a halt with a yell, falling silent as soon as Volkenrath's face appeared before hers. He had reined her into a full stop and was now standing over her, his fangs bared and his eyes wild.

"Enough!" he snarled. "I will not have my own grandchild dishonour me with cowardice. This is your opportunity to make something of yourself, Maria. This is not only the Major's legacy, but mine and yours. Are you going to face the battle like a woman or hide like a child? If I'm to lose my only living descendant tonight, I want her to die fighting for her family and her country. Your mother disappointed me once, and I refuse to be humiliated again."

Maria gaped at him, frozen under his maniacal gaze. Did he really believe that Millennium was her legacy? That Nazism was her heritage? She would never accept that. Even if it was only in the privacy of her mind, she refused to acknowledge this man and his ilk as part of her. If she died tonight, it would not be in Millennium's name. She would not let it be so.

As soon as he was done his diatribe, the Commander turned her around and pushed her onto a nearby platform that faced the yawning maw of the hatch. There were two parallel tracks that led to nowhere, sticking out of the opening. Maria looked down and discovered her feet were placed on either track, her feet waiting to be strapped into the mechanical device that would launch her into the night.

She made a move to jump off the tracks, but she ended up falling against Volkenrath's chest. Before she could gather herself, he was pressed up against her, fastening his harness to hers. Maria knew what was happening, but she was powerless to stop it. Though primal warnings blared in her mind, she found she was paralyzed.

"Now, hang on tight," Volkenrath said in her ear. "Here we go, in _drei… zwei… eins…_ "

On her grandfather's countdown, the device activated and launched them up the gangway. Maria barely felt her feet leave the tracks before she found herself in the red and black sky, freefalling into the hellfire below.

Her screams were lost in the night. The whooshing air in her ears deafened her, but she felt her terror in her voice. Her throat burned, the vocal chords straining to handle her panic. Maria's knuckles ached as she squeezed her fingers around the straps of her vest. The sharp descent forced her head back, and she heard the Commander snarl as she smacked her helmet into his teeth.

Her feet flailed, scrambling for purchase. Nothing but the air met her soles. The desecrated world beneath her spiralled out, dizzying. If she had not done so earlier, she would certainly have been sick in the middle of her skydive.

"Maria! _Maria!_ " Volkenrath was screaming in her ear again. "Hold still! You're going to make us crash into the others!"

Even in her immense terror, his words gave her something to hold onto. She grasped at them and tried to calm down. It was not long before she realized that, despite being airborne, they were quite stable. Once she stopped kicking, Maria and Volkenrath glided smoothly through the air, bodies upright and feet pointed towards the earth. Around them, other paratroopers floated down, their coattails flapping in the wind. It was a surreal sight, and for a moment, Maria wondered if she was really just dreaming this entire night.

Her momentary calm was broken when she looked down. Stretched out below, like a great black snake, was the River Thames. Seeing her feet dangle over its churning waters, where the fiery cityscape blazed in its reflection, ignited her fear once again.

" _Non, per favore!_ Not the _fiume!_ " She thrashed about again. "Please, _Opa_ , not the river! I cannot swim!"

She learned many things at Saint Ferdinand's, but swimming was not one of them. In fact, Maria had always had a bit of apprehension about deep water. The prospect of landing in the Thames with a Nazi strapped to her back horrified her.

"Fear not, _Liebling!_ " the Commander called. "We are not headed for the river. That" – he pointed ahead, where the ruined Parliament buildings lay crumbled in the foreground – "That is where all the fun is!"

Before long, the parachute exploded over their heads, and the Commander guided them over the Thames. As she drew closer to the hellfire, Maria began to reconsider drowning in the water. She could feel the heat of the flames, even miles away in the sky. The sounds of desperation and panic soon assaulted her ears. Men and women screaming, V-1s exploding, buildings tumbling down, glass breaking. Her fellow paratroopers whooped in delight, shouting things to each other that she did not understand. She took it all in as a spectator, still unable to believe she was truly a part of this madness.

When her foot touched solid ground, she nearly fell over. The Commander caught her in time and made quick work of unfastening her harness, giving her enough time to take in her new surroundings: A deserted road, where a house fire raged some feet away, and broken glass from a nearby shop littered the ground. A handful of Volkenrath's troops landed around them, touching down gracefully onto the road. They sloughed off their parachutes and readied their guns, turning to their superior for instructions.

The MP40 that had been confiscated earlier was thrust back into Maria's hands. She held it awkwardly as her grandfather turned to address the company.

"Well, comrades, you heard the Major!" His teeth flashed in the firelight. "We'll head to the city center. Leave nothing but death and destruction in your wake. Now, _gehen wir!_ "

The soldiers cheered, and the Commander turned on his heel. He swung his arm around in a beckoning gesture, and let loose a wordless cry. He bent at the knee and took off running without anymore ceremony. Like well-trained dogs, the Nazis shot after him, kicking up dust as they went.

With precious little option, Maria followed. Surprisingly, she was able to catch up and stay in the middle of the pack. She, who never exercised, miraculously had the stamina of an Olympian. For one glorious moment, Maria forgot her terrible situation and marvelled at her new ability.

The enchantment did not last long. Her squadron soon happened upon a handful of terrified civilians, who were trying to escape the warzone. Gunfire sounded in all directions, and the sickening squelch of the bullets hitting their mark reached Maria's ears. It reminded her of the sound of Irene's death, when she unsuspectingly opened their door to a pair of vampires…

Maria screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. Now was not the time to dwell on that. She had to fight. She had to survive. If she stood there doing nothing, surely her grandfather would unleash the full extent of his temper upon her.

She tilted up the nose of her MP40 and shot over the Nazis' heads. The din of gunfire was so great her own shots were lost in the cacophony. Hopefully, no one would notice her intentionally poor aim either.

When all of the civilians in a five-meter range were shot down, Maria expected her squadron to move on and find some other poor souls to torment. Instead, she watched as her grandfather pulled his mask down from over his nose and grab the nearest victim. To her horror, the man was still kicking. Without so much as a moment's hesitation, the Commander's jaws closed over his neck. Blood spurted from the wound, igniting the others' thirst. A few descended on the hapless humans to feed, and another handful opted to chase down the stragglers.

Maria watched, gun in hand, unsure of what to do. Everywhere she turned, there was death, carnage, and evil. For a long second, she felt the urge to throw down her weapon, sit on the ground, and cry into her hands. In these most terrible of times, she wanted nothing more than for Alucard to come rescue her, like he had done so many times before. He would not be happy to see her like this. She knew that if he ever got his hands on the Doctor, he would tear him limb from limb for what he did. And then, he would find the Commander and impale him on the nearest flag pole, just for good measure.

As quickly as the fantasy came, though, it disappeared. A leaden sense of reality seeped into her bones and weighed down her head, so that it was secured firmly to her shoulders. She had to stop thinking like this. She was in grave danger, and London was currently under siege. Alucard would not be able to save her this time. She did not yet know how, but she had to find a way to rescue herself.

* * *

 **A quick disclaimer about some of the dialogue: Whenever the canon characters throw random German expressions into their speech, I can't always tell what they're saying, unless it's super obvious. I'm pretty sure the Major said "Prost" ("cheers") when addressing the soldiers, but I only took an educated guess with the Commander's "verdammte schweine" ("goddamn pigs"). If that isn't what they said and you know it, please tell me! I don't speak German, and the Google machine can only take me so far**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed it! See you next time :)**


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